


my tears ricochet

by reusabletears



Series: Wayhaught Folklore Anthology [5]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angry!Waverly, Angst and Feels, Dark Jokes About Death, Dealing with Death with Humor, Death of a Spouse, F/F, Figment!Nicole, Grief/Mourning, Major character death - Freeform, Nicole Ain't Coming Back, Nicole Dies, Nicole Is In Every Chapter, None of the Tags are a Lie, Not Canon Compliant, Struggling To Know How To Deal, This Ends on an Uplifting Note, but - Freeform, dealing with death, i doubt anyone will read this, implied drowning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28794111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reusabletears/pseuds/reusabletears
Summary: What will Waverly Haught do when her wife dies unexpectedly?Hate her, of course.An exploration of grief, love, and forgiveness.Track 5 of my Wayhaught Folklore Anthology.
Relationships: Waverly Earp & Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught, Xavier Dolls/Wynonna Earp
Series: Wayhaught Folklore Anthology [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022475
Comments: 227
Kudos: 204





	1. Blue Bayou

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to 'my tears ricochet'. Big thanks to my wife for supporting me in writing this and for her small attempts at beta-ing my commas. The heated discussion about commas was enjoyable, my love. Your passion knows no bounds-- just like my commas.
> 
> PLEASE READ THE TAGS! PLEASE READ THE TAGS! PLEASE READ THE TAGS!
> 
> I beg you. Please. I love this fic and everything that will be explored in it but I understand it's not for everyone. I curate your experience so thoroughly because I know my own boundaries so well.
> 
> *****
> 
> In Loving Memory of my cousin, Mark Jones.  
> The kids are alright because of you.  
> Rest easy, bud.

_ Gonna see my baby again _

_ Gonna be with some of my friends _

_ Maybe I'll feel better again _

_ On Blue Bayou _

  * 'Blue Bayou'-- Linda Ronstadt 



*****

Waverly Haught hummed along with the slightly muffled sounds of her wife, Nicole Haught, singing in the shower. Their king-sized bed was stripped of its sheets and she was bunching them into a ball to throw into the hamper. The song Nicole was singing was familiar to Waverly but she was terrible at recalling exact names or artists. While this was a weakness of Waverly’s, music was Nicole’s favorite pastime and she could name most songs within the first minute of hearing them. If Waverly was out of the musical loop it was only because Nicole hadn’t pulled her into it yet.

The singing from the cracked bathroom door grew louder and Waverly couldn’t help but smile; Nicole wouldn't be winning any Grammys any time soon but her voice was still a soothing alto. At least to Waverly it was. She grabbed the hamper and deposited it in the hallway before turning back to grab the new sheets off of the bench located at the foot of their bed. Waverly noticed Nicole’s gear locker keys laying on the cushion and furrowed her brow as she grabbed them, crossing the room to deposit them in their safe place.  _ It’s not like her to leave her keys out.  _ Then Waverly remembered the previous night’s activities and her cheeks warm as she flips out the fitted sheet.  _ I guess she was a tad distracted. _

So was Waverly, if she was being honest. She was supposed to have changed all the sheets in the house yesterday evening, in preparation for them to host their nieces for the weekend. Waverly liked everything to be perfect when Wynonna and Dolls dropped Alice and Eliza off but Nicole’s excitement mixed with Waverly’s passion sidetracked her original plans. No matter, the girls were going to be with Doc all day and she wouldn’t have to see the inside of Shorty’s for an entire month. There was time. The shower clicked off in the next room and Nicole finished up the song, leaving behind a silence that Waverly wanted to fill. Why not enjoy the time she had with her wife while she wasn't busy?

And besides, who didn’t want to see their wife naked? 

Waverly left the sheet fitted onto half of the bed before almost skipping into the bathroom, knocking to announce her presence. “All done, baby?”

“Yep!” Nicole responded back, opening the glass door to their shower and leaning out, the steam rising in waves. Her short hair was framing her face in deep, wet copper ringlets and Waverly admired the goofy smile and relaxed disposition. Nicole grabbed her towel before slipping back inside. “Feels good to have an entire two weeks off-- even though, I must admit, I am jealous you got an  _ entire _ month off from Shorty’s.”

“Perks of being the owner of the most famous bar in Purgatory,” Waverly quipped, stepping up to lean against their double vanity. It was the best perch to watch her favorite ginger goddess emerge from the shower. “Instead of their soon-to-be Sheriff!”

Waverly let out a gleeful noise in part because of her excitement, but also because Nicole stepped out of the shower, barely holding the towel to her body. She let her eyes wander over Nicole’s firm frame and subtle curves, taking extra time to admire the way her breasts looked in the post shower glow.

“Exactly why Nedley forced me to take his last two weeks off.” Nicole slowly toweled off, knowing exactly how much Waverly was enjoying her display. “So what did you need from the store?”

Waverly didn’t hear her response, instead watching a few droplets race down Nicole’s collar bone. It was taking an immense amount of control to not cross the tile and trace light kisses across the water’s trail; kissing Nicole’s body was a job Waverly would never grow tired of.

“Wave?” Nicole finished drying off, moving to rub the dampness out of her hair. “Earth to Waverly!” 

Nicole strode forward and ran a finger along Waverly’s jaw line, snapping her out of her daze. Once Waverly was aware, Nicole leaned down and captured her lips in a soft kiss. 

“Welcome back.”

“I was paying attention.” Waverly nodded fiercely, hoping Nicole caught the playfulness in her eyes. “Honest.”

“Sure.” Nicole winked before stepping close, causing Waverly to suck in a breath.  _ 8 years and she still makes you weak. _ “Can you lotion my back for me?”

The blue lotion bottle was deposited into Waverly’s hands as Nicole turned, her back now facing Waverly. She gulped and quickly opened the bottle and squirted a decent amount on to her hands.  _ Was it always this hot in here?  _ Waverly closed the cap and quickly tossed the bottle back onto the vanity with a small thump before moving her hand near Nicole’s back.

“Did you warm it?”

Waverly chuckled, rubbing her hands together to warm and spread the lotion. “How did you know?”

“I am a cop.” Nicole shrugged, her defined shoulder muscles catching Waverly’s eyes. “I am trained to know things.”

“No, you are trained to react to things.” Waverly rubbed her hands over the expanse of Nicole’s back, basking in the small groan Nicole made at her touch. She paid extra attention to muscles Nicole usually favored, making a simple task into a small massage.

“What were you singing?”

Nicole hummed in appreciation before responding. “‘Blue Bayou’ by Linda Ronstadt.”

“What year?”

“1977. Album is ‘Simple Dreams’.” 

Waverly patted her back once she finished before moving away, afraid of what she might do if she didn’t. “I should go back to putting sheets on the beds, before this--” Waverly pointed between her and Nicole with a sly smile. “Puts me behind again.”

Nicole stalks forward slightly, biting her lip. “You own a bar, baby. You can multitask.”

“No!” Waverly almost yelps, throwing up a playfully cautious hand. “You are going to the store for me remember, so you need to get dressed!”

“Saved by the--” Nicole slipped by her, the woman’s head cocked to the side like she was asking Waverly to fill in the rest of the sentence.

“Applesauce,” Waverly blurted, crossing to the bed.

“I’m going into town for  _ applesauce _ ?” Nicole asked incredulously, crossing to Waverly and wrapping her arms around her before whispering in her ear. “Really?”

“Yes.” Waverly pushed her butt back into Nicole before striding towards the door. “I need it for my vegan cupcakes that I am making for the girls! Applesauce can replace either oil or egg--”

“They are related to Wynonna, Wave.” Nicole leaned down sensually, pulling the final corner of the sheet into place. “I doubt they are vegan.”

“But these cupcakes are good--” Waverly began to whine but Nicole put up her hands.

“I’m just joking love; if you want applesauce, I will buy all the applesauce in the Ghost River Triangle.” Nicole started to walk towards her again and Waverly just backed out into the hallway, playing the most unfun game of keepaway.

“Thanks-- now I am going to go and do something in the kitchen while you cover that beautiful body of yours.” Waverly waved her hands around the expanse of Nicole’s frame as she continued to move further down the hall. “Otherwise nothing will get done. Deal?”

Nicole nodded but her face still held a smug grin. “Deal.”

*****

"Do you need anything else? Flour? Sugar? Veggie nugs?"

_ Alice's favorite.  _ Waverly thought as she grabbed the last plate from the dishwasher and stacked it on her pile. "Nope! I only forgot the applesauce."

"What kind of self respecting Virgo are you?" Waverly heard Nicole joke, followed by some clicking noises and a whoosh of cardboard on cardboard.

"One smart enough to send my precious, structured Capricorn in my stead." Waverly stood on her tippy-toes to deposit the plates in the cabinet before she heard an electronic whir. She turned to see her wife leaned over the record player dressed in a simple pair of tight blue jeans, black Johnny Cash t-shirt, black Merrells, and her mirrored aviators pushed up on her head. 

"What are you doing?"

A bouncy guitar and drum beat responded before Nicole, "I thought I'd throw on Linda Ronstadt's 'Simple Dreams' album to educate you while I was gone."

"Aww, thanks baby." Waverly grinned from ear to ear as she moved her hips along to the beat, leaning down to pull out the silverware holder from the dishwasher. There was nothing like Nicole choosing music for her to listen to; it always felt like a glimpse right into Nicole’s soul.

Nicole hummed along as she shimmed into the kitchen, saddling up behind Waverly, pulling her into her arms. "I'm going to miss you."

Waverly’s heart clenched and she leaned back into Nicole, a text notification coming from Nicole’s jean pocket. "If that is Lonnie--"

Waverly felt Nicole pull her phone out behind her, the small click letting her know she had unlocked it. Linda's rich tone filled their house and Waverly sighed, satisfied with how wonderful she felt in this moment. 

"I gotta make a pit stop on the way back from the store."

" _ Babe _ \-- you're off for two weeks." Waverly turned in her arms and gave her best pouty face. "You are no longer Deputy Sheriff Nicole Haught. You are Waverly Haught's charming, gorgeous, and funny wife Nicole Haught."

A slight blush blooms over Nicole’s cheeks as she texts, her face trying to keep from smiling at Waverly’s sweet words. "I know that. It's just-- Nedley texted me to let me know the county over is feeling the effects of the heavy rains from yesterday on their part of the river and he knows Doc and the kids are down at the Ghost swimming today."

A feeling of admiration flowed down Waverly as she watched a tiny bit of worry cross Nicole’s features. "Doc always takes them to the wider launch by Wagon Wheel road, right?"

"Yeah."

"Never known that area to get dangerous--" Waverly sighs as she watches Nicole’s eyes dart over her phone again. "But of course you can check on them-- I just didn't want you to get lured to the station. Let me know if you decide to bring them back for lunch so I can make enough. Deal?"

"Deal." Nicole nodded, leaning down to give Waverly a slow, deep kiss. "Shouldn't be gone for more than two hours."

"Sounds good." Waverly pulled her in for one more deep kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby." Nicole winked before sliding her glasses down over eyes and kissing Waverly on the forehead.

Waverly listened to Nicole’s footsteps trod down the hall before the front door creaked open and slammed shut. 

*****

Waverly didn’t expect it to be a phone call. 

It had been four hours since Nicole left for the applesauce and Waverly had vacuumed the living room twice to keep her annoyance down to an acceptable level. She knew how caught up Nicole could get with Doc. The two could spout nonsense for hours, days, if Dolls was involved. Doc had stayed a great co-parent for Alice even after he and Wynonna broke up. Dolls had done an even better job bridging the gap between himself and Doc after marrying Wynonna; a phrase and situation that Waverly never assumed she would see her sister involved in. But Wynonna was full of surprises and Waverly was thankful everyone was so mature about it all. They were all one big family and everyone's role was taken seriously and respected.

_ Where the fudge is Nicole?  _ Waverly would have preferred a text telling her that Nicole was going to stay a bit at the river so she could figure out an alternative recipe for the cupcakes. Waverly preferred to have them cooled enough to ice when the girls arrived; Eliza was her little shadow and she loved to ice the cupcakes. Waverly loved to see Eliza’s face when cupcakes were waiting for her, the joy unmatched by anyone other than Alice perhaps. Though Waverly had eyes and she knew Alice thought Nicole had roped the moon just for her.

The sound of her phone ringing on the charger had Waverly stomping into the kitchen, ready to give Nicole an enormous amount of shit for taking so long. The face of the phone didn't read 'Wifey' though. 

The word 'Wynonna' stared at her instead. A weird feeling of dread washed over her and Waverly took a few extra seconds to ponder why before answering.

"Hello?"

"Uhh-- I wasn’t expecting--" Wynonna exhaled loudly, spreading the dread around Waverly’s body like a wildfire. There were loud beeping noises, like a large truck being backed up, in the background and Waverly's mouth went dry. "There’s been an accident."

The air was pulled out of Waverly’s lungs. "What?"

"It's Nicole, Babygirl," Wynonna's voice barely sounded familiar to Waverly, akin to how her sister had sounded when Daddy and Willa left.

"Nicole's what?!" Waverly's body went into overdrive and she began frantically moving to the door, slipping on her running shoes. 

"Come to the Wagon Wheel Road access to the river. I-- I don’t want to tell you over the phone. I lo-- I will see you soon, Waverly."

Before Waverly could ask for more information, Wynonna hung up. The urge to throw her phone overtook the small woman but she shoved the technology into her pants before she careened out the door, not at all worried about locking it.

Getting her jeep started proved a challenge. Her key missed the slot at least five times before she finally leaned forward to supervise the process. A roar, the thunk of the shifter, a click of her seatbelt. All sounds leading her out of the driveway and down the long road towards the launch that she so desperately wished she could have teleported to.

One would assume that Waverly would be creating a mental list of all the possibilities awaiting her but Wynonna wasn't clear enough for her to assume anything. The dread feeling inside her gut assumed enough. Waverly instead focused on the road. On her foot pressing down the gas. On her eyes darting to her mirrors, hopeful one of Nicole’s new employees would notice it was her cherry red jeep speeding towards the river and let her be.

The time it took to arrive was both forever and instantaneous. Waverly flung on her blinker before taking the sharp left, feeling the bumps of the dirt road as it's downhill curve took her to the small parking lot designated for the launch. Waverly felt a sickness envelop her stomach as she spotted Nicole’s squad car and she instinctively parked next to it. Waverly took a deep breath before leaning over to peer down into it, the sight of a large glass container of organic applesauce sitting in the passenger seat overwhelming her.

The image burned into her mind as she ripped her keys from the jeep and jumped out onto the dirt. She couldn’t have stopped her voice if she tried, "Nicole!"

"Waverly?"

The responder wasn't Nicole, it was Wynonna, and Waverly closed her door quickly before running towards the sound. She watched the ground as she hurried down the deep embankment, foregoing the longer switchback style trail and boat drive. Waverly’s eyes darted up just as she hit level ground before the beach and spotted Wynonna. Her sister was drenched from head to toe as she clutched to a sobbing Eliza who was wrapped in a large PAW Patrol towel. 

_ What the fuck? _

The next few moments were probably only seconds in real time, but they felt like hours to Waverly. Her eyes drifted over her sister's form, wondering how she got so wet or why she was here instead of at her motorcycle shop. Where was her signature leather jacket? Why was Eliza crying?

Waverly’s head turned, Dolls and Doc sat together on the beach against a tree with Alice in between them. All of them were soaked and their eyes held an emptiness Waverly was unfamiliar with. Doc was shirtless, hatless and his arms were wrapped protectively around Alice. Dolls hands were shoved high under his armpits and he had no shoes on. Waverly stepped back and swung her body away, their positioning confusing her.  _ Why are they hard to look at? _

That is when Waverly noticed the truck and trailer low on the launch. The words written across the truck making her knees feel weak.

_ Ghost River Search and Rescue _ . 

"Waverly?"

_ Ghost River Search and Rescue. _

Waverly stumbled forward by Wynonna, getting closer to the truck to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

_ Ghost River Search and Rescue. _

"Waverly!"

Waverly turned to find Dolls was standing, taking Eliza from Wynonna while her sister's eyes were full and trained on her. The icy blue in her irises seemed to be melting as she stepped towards Waverly.

"Where's Nicole?"

Wynonna looked at the truck then down at the river.

"We don't know."

*****

"Doc and Dolls took the kids back to the homestead. I told Doc he could stay there as long as he wants."

  
  


The sun was setting; which is late in an Alberta summer. Dinner should have already come and gone. Waverly was going to show the girls how to make homemade pasta. Nicole was going to make her famous luxurious garlic and parmesan broccoli sauce. The girls didn't even care if it was broccoli, the sauce was just that good.

"Waverly?"

_ Fuck you, Nicole. You made us miss dinner. _

"Babygirl?" Wynonna's voice was ratcheting up, like she was close to tears.  _ Talk to her. Act normal. _

"Yes?"

"Do you want to know--" a sob escaped Wynonna's normally collected exterior. "I'm--"

Waverly didn’t want to know. She was just waiting for Nedley to return with Nicole. The woman was playing a mean game of hide and seek and Waverly was busy imagining throttling her for it. 

_ But… _

"Ok."

The sounds of the river and its inhabitants filled their space as Waverly waited for Wynonna to gather her thoughts; their butts sitting in sand neither woman was worried about bringing home. 

"Doc and Dolls were relaxing, drinking beers and watching the girls play in the shallows. You know how it is-- they love that submarine Nicole got them for Christmas." 

Waverly remembers Nicole’s excitement when they found it in the mall. The way her brown eyes lit up. The clutch of the box to her chest. Nicole’s exclamation,  _ It zooms underwater! _

"I guess Nicole showed up to check on them? According to Dolls at least. Dolls-- That man didn't call me fast enough-- sorry," Wynonna coughed. Waverly could tell it was hard for her to form complete sentences. "I guess the girls got picked up by a hidden current trying to chase the submarine, whatever the fuck that is, and Nicole noticed-- Doc said it was faster than the OK Corral."

Waverly felt her arms wrap around her own body tightly. She might have felt numb but her body knew what information was coming. The hope that search and rescue would find Nicole alive was crumbling under each syllable leaving Wynonna's mouth. This is why she didn't want to know what happened. Because she knew Nicole. Waverly knew Nicole better than anyone else.

Waverly knew what Nicole was capable of.

"Dolls said Nicole dove in instantly. He ran along the bank as the girls caught a faster current and Nicole swam towards them. There was some high brush and when he popped out on the other side, Nicole had a hold on the girls--" Wynonna's voice broke again. "She was holding them up out of the water. One in each hand-- sacrificing her stability to make sure they could--"

Waverly felt the numbness sink in deeper. It matched the calmness of the river now.

_ I hate you, Nicole. _

"Doc was able to swim to them. Dolls tried but-- his back surgery. Nicole passed him Eliza and he was able to get out of the current as Nicole took--"

_ You had to kill me. _

"A rock to the back. They went around the sharp curve by old man Cal's-- the guys lost sight of her. Doc got Eliza to shore and swam down until he found Alice on a dry river bed before the deep. Alice said Nicole flung her there."

_ But it killed you just the same. _

“We all jumped in, Babygirl. We all looked while we waited for the search and rescue team to show but the deep-- the current is still hell down there.”

Before Waverly could come up with something normal to say, something that didn't reveal the odd hatred she was feeling for Nicole in this moment, Waverly was interrupted by the engine noise of the search and rescue raft returning from down river. Wynonna jumped to her feet as it rounded the bend, slowing, as if it was  _ trying _ to not get close enough to the bank. Waverly studied each person seated on the raft, looking for a familiar copper. 

Bright brown eyes.

Nedley stood from the bow and jumped into the water, no care given to his uniform. It was the same uniform Waverly loved watching Nicole care for. The older man's eyes were hard, sharp, and locked on Waverly’s. She stood and began walking towards him. 

_ They left her down river. Helicopter. Ambulance. Away from your angry fists because she scared you. _

Nedley’s stetson was pulled from his head as he stepped up to her. 

_ Why does he look so sad? She’s going to be-- _

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Haught--" Nedley’s lower lip quivered but he kept her gaze. "Waverly-- We found Nicole--"

Wynonna's hand gripped Waverly’s wrist tightly but she felt no pain. 

"Nicole is dead. I'm so very sorry."

*****

Waverly couldn’t go home. 

Waverly could barely move.

Wynonna carried her past Nicole’s squad car. 

Past her own jeep. 

Past a line of broken looking Sheriff’s deputies who had flanked the bank since the news had made its way around town. 

Wynonna drove her to the homestead in silence. An undercurrent of conflicted feelings bouncing around the cab of the old ford like pinball. These topics would be brought up at some point but both sisters knew that now was not the time.

Waverly wanted to curse Nicole’s name. The entire town would use the word hero. Waverly wanted to call her a bitch.

_ What kind of woman takes two weeks off from a dangerous job to only die getting applesauce for her wife?  _

_ A damn bitch, that's who. _

These angry thoughts scared her and Waverly wondered if Wynonna could hear them. Especially when the woman held her close, moving her towards the barn and it’s guest bed.  _ She can read your mind. _ If Wynonna knew she wanted to sleep in the barn she must also know about Waverly’s thorny disposition towards her favorite person. Wynonna left her on the bed. Waverly needed to be alone and she was never more thankful that Wynonna had picked up on that need.

The barn door shut with a firm thud and Waverly instantly regretted the same need she just championed.

_ What do I do now?  _ The thought cut deep.

Waverly never considered a life without Nicole. How was she supposed to sleep? 

Waverly kicked her shoes off but left her clothes on. Nicole had touched these clothes and that made them precious enough to sleep in. The light was still on but Waverly couldn't bear to turn it off. Waverly didn’t feel worthy of the covers though, so she just laid down on top of them. Especially after dragging her own wife through shit in her mind when she should be planning a wake instead. A funeral. The funeral. Waverly closed her eyes in an attempt to force herself to sleep.  _ What do I do? How do I-- _

"I never really liked the word 'bitch'." 

Waverly’s eyes flew open. Nicole was seated, high up on the wooden beam Willa forced her to cross when they were kids. Waverly's body was frozen and her mind confused.  _ How in the shit-- _ Nicole was in her full Sheriff's Deputy uniform, white stetson and all. The exact same one she was wearing when she asked her to coffee inside Shorty’s. 

What kind of nightmare is this?

"Bitch is too patriarchal, don't you think?" Nicole's voice was light and her face set, calm. “The word is all about male dominance-- maybe asshole would have been better?”

Waverly’s chest was on fire and she scrambled to sit up. "How are--"

Nicole held her hand up and immediately interrupted, "Please don't. Unfortunately, Nicole is actually dead. And I'm not here-- well, I am but I am in your mind. This isn’t even a dream."

Waverly wanted to protest but Nicole jumped from the beam. And in the blink of her feet landing, she was now wearing a white and purple flannel with tight black jeans.  _ Why is her hair long-- _

"See, I'm you. Well, a figment of what Nicole is to you."

Waverly felt a large lump form in her throat.

"I guess-- was to you."

"Why?" Was all Waverly could choke out. "Hasn't this day been horrible enough?"

"The worst day of our life." Nicole responded quickly, softly. Waverly felt her anger bubble. "Which is why I am here."

_ Fuck off. _

"I can't," Nicole sighed, hearing Waverly’s thought. "We need to talk."


	2. Closer to Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for not tearing me apart after chapter one, friends.

_ I'm trying to tell you something 'bout my life _

_ Maybe give me insight between black and white _

_ And the best thing you ever done for me _

_ Is to help me take my life less seriously _

_ It's only life after all, yeah _

  * _”Closer to Fine” -- Indigo Girls_



*****

“I said, fuck off!”

Figment Nicole strolled closer and Waverly set her shoulders, defiant in the face of her dead wife. 

“No, you thought it,” Figment Nicole sighed. “And since I am technically a part of you, I heard it.”

Waverly’s pulse was thumping in her ears, temples, and neck. The overwhelming numbness in her chest was being replaced by a sharp pain as she glared at Figment Nicole.  _ She looks alive. _ Figment Nicole bit her lip and stepped forward, moving down onto her knees in front of Waverly. The pulsing only got louder as Waverly began to shake at the thought of reaching forward to touch her love’s cheek. 

“I’m not here, Wave.” Figment Nicole’s expressive brown eyes flitted between Waverly’s hazels. “But I can’t go away.”

“Why not?” Waverly asked quietly. When Figment Nicole didn’t respond immediately, she reached up and watched as her hand passed right through her. Not only was she not there, she didn’t feel like anything to Waverly.

Peculiar, since Nicole was everything to her.

“Because we need to talk.”

The air in Waverly’s lungs began to form into a sob and she clutched at her chest, trying her best to keep it in. This cruel joke was only getting crueler as her chest ached under the weight of her anger as it slowly built.  _ This is bullshit _ .

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Waverly spat, choking on the words like they were poisonous. “Go away.”

“Waverly,” Nicole drawled empathetically.

Waverly leaned back onto the bed before rolling away from Figment Nicole, squeezing her eyes shut with exorbitant force. Her chest heaved without her consent as anger and anguish took turns rolling over her in waves.  _ Why did I ask Wynonna to leave?  _ Waverly grunted a warning at Figment Nicole after thinking it, knowing full well she didn’t want the nuisance to answer. 

_ You aren’t even my wife. _

_ Nicole is dead. _

Waverly’s body ached as she pulled one of the pillows out from under her head and clutched to it tightly, tears streaming down her face. The anger suddenly ebbed away, like the tide, and left a strange longing in its place. In that moment, Waverly considered rolling back over and attempting to egg Figment Nicole on. Maybe even get her to yell at her. A full on fight sounded glorious to Waverly in this delicate moment; at least she’d be able to hear Nicole’s voice some more.

Waverly didn’t want to forget Nicole’s voice.

“I’m going to let you sleep,” Figment Nicole cooed from behind her. “We can talk tomorrow.”

The tide rolled back in. 

_ I don’t ever want to talk to you again.  _ Waverly’s body began to give into the exhaustion and she didn’t try to fight it. As she drifted away, Waverly considered this all might be a terrible dream. The thought thrilled her a bit; she couldn’t wait to wake up in Nicole’s arms. 

*****

The sound of metal clinking against metal slowly pulled Waverly out of the comfort of her sleep. Her body felt heavy, unnaturally so, and the sun was warming her face through a large crack up by the loft. It only took a few moments for Waverly to remember she was in the barn. Who knew disappointment could feel this bad? The clinking noises got louder, followed by a strange shuffle of footsteps and something sliding across dirt. 

_ I thought I told you I didn’t want to talk to you again?  _

The shuffle continued, and it irritated Waverly that Figment Nicole had already picked up on how to ignore her. “I thought I told you to leave me alone!”

A tiny yelp followed by a slumping clank drew Waverly’s eyes open, pushing her to sit up and swivel. Figment Nicole was back up on her beam while Alice was standing below her in terror, hovering over a mass of black strands. The sight of her frightened niece pulled on her heart and she stood and attempted to move towards Alice.

“I’m so sorry, Alice, I--” Waverly began but Alice shook her head and ran from the barn, the slam of the door making Waverly jump.  _ Balls. Aunt of the year. _

“No, that’s me,” Nicole chuckled from above.

Waverly gritted her teeth and ignored her, instead walking over to the strands of black that Alice must have been trying to pull out of the barn. As she moved closer, Figment Nicole’s dangling boots caught her eyes. Waverly felt a pull to engage.

“Back in your uniform, I see.”

“Thought it might garner me some sympathy,” Figment Nicole teased back. “You always loved the way I looked in uniform.”

Waverly let herself take Figment Nicole in again. The khakis and white Stetson were back; her original uniform when she moved to Purgatory. Waverly had listened to Nicole complain for months about how terrible her butt looked in those pants. Waverly would assure her she was wrong but Nicole would always playfully scold her, finding some new elaborate excuse as to why Waverly was incorrect. It was the perfect inside joke for a burgeoning relationship, an ever changing back and forth about the attractiveness of Nicole’s rear. Especially since Nicole was so integral to Waverly’s coming out process. Talking about being attracted to women was so much easier when you could argue the validity of her having extra ‘junk in the trunk’. 

“I loved the way your ass looked in those khakis.” Waverly looked up into Figment Nicole’s eyes, her chest heavy.

“I  _ knew _ that.”

Waverly rolled her eyes.  _ How am I supposed to believe you? _ Her attention was pulled back to the pile and she kneeled down in front of it to study it closer.  _ Oh. _ Waverly used both hands to pull the tangle up, her throat clenching at the sight.

“Was I taking Alice rock climbing?” Figment Nicole asked.

“I don’t know, were you?” Waverly responded curtly, standing up to her full height and allowing the rock climbing harness to unfurl from her hands. Waverly knew this wasn’t Alice’s harness. It was one of Nicole’s many back-ups that were strewn across the places she frequented the most. Nicole had bragged that you could never be too prepared for impromptu rock climbing excursions. 

“Yes, I was. A month back I took her to Twin Buttes.” Figment Nicole sighed deeply before kicking her legs again, causing Waverly’s upper lip to twitch.

“I wish you could tell me about it. I had to cover three callouts that day and missed watching you teach Alice--” Waverly couldn’t finish her sentence, the anger bubbling back up.

“I loved those girls more than--”

“Don’t,” Waverly interrupted, dropping the harness back to the ground. “We are not talking about that.”

A light knock and creak came from Waverly’s left and she turned, wrapping her arms over her chest like it was bare. And seeing the state of her heart, there is no wonder she felt naked.

“Waverly?” Wynonna’s voice was hoarse. 

“Yes,” Waverly choked out, breathing in to attempt to seem put together.  _ You can’t show her. _

“We still need to talk,” Figment Nicole expressed from above, her feet moving back and forth again. 

Wynonna enters slowly, one of Waverly’s cardigans tied tightly over her pajamas. The sight struck Waverly as odd; It was June in Alberta. “You hungry?”

Waverly swallowed thickly. “No.”

“Too bad,” Wynonna ambled forward, her face the perfect poster child for exhaustion. Waverly looked up at Figment Nicole and scowled.  _ This is your fault, asshole. _ “I want you to eat.”

“Yay, no more bitch,” Nicole laughed, now standing beside Waverly as Wynonna entered her space, pulling the smaller sister in for a deep hug. “Hug her back, Waves.”

Waverly did. Wynonna pulled her in tighter, leaning her weight into Waverly more fully. How does one fill the empty space in a moment like this? Waverly didn’t know so she just gripped onto her sister and prayed Figment Nicole would take a hike.

“I don’t know what to say,” Wynonna whimpered into Waverly’s neck.

_ Nicole was a reckless idiot? Doc and the girls-- _

Waverly flinched, that wasn’t it. She knew why Wynonna didn’t know what to say. Or rather, what Wynonna was too afraid to say. It hung like an elephant in the room.

“Come back to the house with me.” Wynonna gripped Waverly’s shoulders, pushing her back to study her face. “Dolls is making you breakfast.”

Waverly hesitated.

“The kids are going to be in the house,” Figment Nicole reminded her. “You need to see them.”

“Are Alice and Eliza--” Waverly’s voice wavered and Wynonna’s eyebrows crinkled inward. “Are they going to be there?”

“No, no.” Wynonna rubbed her hand over Waverly’s hair, a pained expression expanding. “Doc took them back to his house at Alice’s request. He’s got a big tv-- and well, you know how kids are.”

Waverly nodded as Wynonna silently hooked her arm and began walking her towards the homestead. “It’s my fault.”

Wynonna clicked her tongue, “It’s nobody’s fault, Babygirl.”

_ Other than Nicole’s. Everything is her fault from now on. _

They crossed up the slight hill and Waverly did her best to keep her eyes on the ground. The anger that rolled around inside of her was intensifying with each step and she needed a diversion; Waverly needed to take control.

“I want to plan the wake and funeral,” Waverly said as confidently as she could muster.

“We will,” Wynonna confirmed. “But right now you need to eat.”

Before the pair reached the steps, Waverly looked up and spotted Figment Nicole on the roof. She was decked out in her brown Red Wings, tan Dickies, white under shirt, and leather tool belt. Waverly stopped, tugging Wynonna back with her as she watched Figment Nicole smile goofily and wave. That would have made Waverly blush yesterday, but today, she only bristled.

“What’s wrong?” Wynonna touched her cheek before following her gaze to the roof. “Did you see something?”

“Do you--” Waverly considered carefully, as she watched Figment Nicole stroll further up the roof to straddle the ridge. “Do you remember when Nicole tried to install the roof?”

Wynonna took a few steps back, a small smile pulling at her edges. Waverly was jealous that emotion came so easily to Wynonna. 

“Yeah, she thought she was some Haught-Shot roofer. Standing up there in her wife beater and tool belt,” Wynonna let out a soft laugh. “Damn woman was terrible at it. But I guess she wanted to impress you-- which was reason enough to try.”

Waverly can remember her embarrassment when Doc had to pull up half the shingles Nicole laid. Doc had been angry at first, not the best man to be around, but Nicole convinced him to teach her how to do it properly. She was different from all the rest. Nicole had tried to help, which was a far cry better than most people Waverly knew. She waited for the warm feeling to come as she watched Wynonna clutch at the edges of her cardigan, but it was elusive. 

Nicole didn’t seem to bring her the same joy anymore. 

_ She always tried to help.  _

_ Asshole. _

“Food?”

“Sure.” Waverly nodded before glancing up once more at Figment Nicole. 

The redheaded mirage was frowning.

*****

“You need to eat more than one bite, Babygirl.”

Waverly ignored her sister. Instead, she elbowed her plate further down the kitchen table as she flipped Wynonna’s laptop screen up, pushing the power button with practiced ease. The compulsion to figure out if she could give Nicole her frequently requested sky funeral was far more gripping than a tempeh BLT. Waverly focused on the computer’s screen as it booted up, even as she watched Wynonna from her peripheral. Wynonna was frozen, staring painfully at her uneaten lunch. 

“I will call Dragon Gate,” Dolls offered, his deep voice bringing Waverly’s eyes up to where he was perched at the sink, idly doing the dishes. He turned his gaze from Wynonna to look delicately at Waverly. “Sweet and sour soup with a dollop of peanut butter.”

Waverly fakes a smile before looking back down, typing in Wynonna’s password.

“Dolls is the sweetest,” Figment Nicole said from her new position on top of the refrigerator. The chimera was still decked out in her roof repair outfit and Waverly tried her best to keep her focus away from all the open skin on display. “You’ll need to talk to him too.”

“Shut it,” Waverly grumbled and Dolls turned back to the dishes with a jerk.  _ Fudge.  _ “Not you, Dolls. I-- I didn’t mean you.”

Wynonna’s hand slipped across the table and covered Waverly’s wrist. “It’s ok. We know.”

Waverly ignored her touch and clicked open Google, her hands moving to hover over the keys as she thought out the most comprehensive search terms. After a few moments of consideration, she typed in ‘sky funeral Canada legal’ and hit enter, the list populating.

“You can just answer me in your mind, you know?” Figment Nicole said with a kindness that ached, making Waverly want to be held. “Everyone here has someone they blame.”

_ Blame? No. I just want to figure this funeral stuff out. You might piss me off but I need to give you what you want-- even if it's grotesque.  _ Wynonna and Dolls begin talking about the girls but Waverly tunes them out, flipping on the research part of her brain as she scrolls various web pages. It doesn’t take long to figure out sky funerals were not legally possible in Canada and Waverly slammed her fist down on the table in frustration. Her eyes flipped up to Figment Nicole,  _ I can’t even bury you the way you want you selfish, ostentatious jerky-jerk! _

Figment Nicole only laughed in response, her brown eyes twinkling in a way that burned inside Waverly’s chest.

“Wave?” Wynonna looked hurt, shuffling to sit next to Waverly and check out her computer. She reads as Waverly continues to glare red hot holes into Figment Nicole’s smirk. “ _ Of course _ Red wanted a sky burial. Nicole always had hidden a flair for the dramatic under that perfectly pressed uniform-- which you know what?”

The burning was still present. “What?”

“That never really sat right with me. One day she’s telling me I can’t fist fight with Kyle for the next ride on the mechanical bull, and the next she wants to be ripped apart by vultures to the tune of ‘Cum on Feel the Noize.’”

Figment Nicole is laughing louder now, a few chuckles from Dolls merge in harmoniously, and Wynonna is grinning warmly from ear to ear. The burning intensifies.  _ How can everyone just do that? I want to feel-- to remember _ .

“What year?”

“Huh?” Wynonna says, confused.

“1983,” Figment Nicole answers.

“Wouldn’t Nicole rather have the Indigo Girls playing?” Dolls stops drying a plate, a slightly amused turn on his lips.

“Yeah, babe,” Wynonna playfully slaps his butt. “Lilith Fair but make it death--” Wynonna’s eyes were on her now, happiness strewn across her face. “What’s that one song you played for her on your first date in the barn?”

Nicole hopped down from the fridge, a new outfit of white and purple flannel peeking into Waverly’s peripheral.  _ No, no-- it’s too much. _

“I can’t--” Waverly slams the computer shut before standing up, the urge to run overtaking her as she takes the couple strides towards the kitchen door.

“Waverly?” Wynonna called behind her but she was already outside, already running back towards the barn.

*****

“Are you ready to talk now?”

Waverly scoffed out a discontented moan, face down on the barn’s bed. “If I die will you haunt me as terribly in the afterlife?”

“Probably worse,” Figment Nicole teased. “Seeing as that would be the real Nicole.”

_ Real Nicole? Fake Nicole? Figment Nicole? Why does any of this matter?  _ Waverly wanted the earth to crack open and it’s fiery mantle to bubble up, swallowing her whole. The pain would be far easier to bear. Waverly opened her eyes, finding the calm and loving features of Figment Nicole beaming at her. It was breaking her resolve even as it flared around her heart.

_ “Fine.”  _ Waverly relented. “What do you want to talk about?”

Figment Nicole smiled slightly as she scrambled to sit cross-legged on the ground next to the bed, sliding up close as she could to be eye to eye with Waverly. She studied Figment Nicole, noticing that she had the long, straight hair that Nicole sported when she first arrived in Purgatory. A light dash of makeup and a simple silver necklace with a tree of life charm accessorized well with her hair. Waverly’s eyes darted down to the black chelsea boots, skinny black jeans, and white and purple flannel with a hint of a black cami underneath. Waverly was keyed in now. 

She knew what Figment Nicole wanted to talk about. Waverly was just unsure if she could do it.

“Dolls gave us a great in.” Figment Nicole nodded back towards the homestead, a slight smile on her face. “And I think you finally picked up on it.”

“Lilith Fair?” Waverly asked dumbly, still not ready to give in fully to this lunacy. 

Figment Nicole rolled her eyes. “No, dummy. Our first date-- here in the barn.”

A weird tinge of embarrassment passed over Waverly’s body and she gasped, the new emotion so unfamiliar after her past twenty hours of hell. She relaxed into it before focusing back on bright browns. “I was so nervous.”

“Which is funny because I was even more nervous.”

“How? I mean--” Waverly drifted her hand up and down Figment Nicole’s body. “Look at you, Nicole. You are gorgeous and I mean-- you were the one who asked me out first. Always so confident, God, you could flirt with any woman and get them to go to coffee with you.”

“But you weren’t just any woman,” Figment Nicole chuckled and swooned. “It took me days to get up the confidence to ask you out. Also--” Figment Nicole jeered. “You rejected me!”

Waverly felt her mouth turn up as she hid her eyes, “I apologized for that.”

“Right here in the barn,” Figment Nicole murmured, low and sensually. “It was a  _ really good _ apology.”

Warmth pricked her cheeks and Waverly’s breath quickened. “After I got over playing that damn song.”

“The setup was really cute, though. A fancy dinner in a barn with fairy lights, chardonnay, and shrimp. I mean shrimp shouldn’t taste so sweet in Alberta, right?” A contented sigh escaped Figment Nicole’s lips. “I felt like a princess.”

Pain shot across Waverly’s arm as the warm feeling drifted away, remembering the awkwardness of the date. The whole reason behind the setup, the food, and the music. Waverly had been so scared.  _ Why did I listen to Lonnie? _

“Because he was the only person who knew anything about me?” Figment Nicole offered. “I thought it was adorable you asked him what music I liked.”

“He literally said ‘gay music’, though,” Waverly snapped, rolling to her back. “And I listened to him and bought the album of the only artist I could think of.”

“Indigo Girls,” Nicole said wistfully. “1989. ‘Closer to Fine’. I mean, it’s a  _ good  _ song.”

“It was embarrassing! When I put it on you laughed for what felt like twenty minutes. Who invites a hot lesbian to a secret date in a barn and tries to seduce her with  _ that _ song?” Waverly was bursting at the seams, so close to telling Figment Nicole to fuck off. This entire exercise was becoming too much. 

“A scared bisexual?” Nicole offered. “I told you it was beautiful. I  _ loved  _ that date-- you put yourself as far out of your comfort zone as you could. No one had ever done that for me before.”

Waverly felt her eyes burn, a few tears dropping down her cheeks. “You think?”

“I know.”

_ I wish I could believe you. _

“Waverly?” Wynonna was back and Waverly wiped her arm over her eyes, trying to seem more put together.

“We’ll talk more later.” Figment Nicole was no longer next to her bed and Waverly felt the loss deep in her gut. 

“I’m sorry.” Wynonna was at the foot of the bed. “If we said something--”

“No,” Waverly trembled, reaching out for her sister. “I just want to get her affairs together.”

Wynonna crawled over the footboard and towards Waverly, pulling her into a soft embrace. “I understand.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Wynonna said into her arm fiercely. “Tomorrow we will go into town and get Nicole’s... stuff. And her will. And then we will talk to the funeral home and get this all done.”

Waverly could only nod.

Figment Nicole was back on the beam but she looked different this time. Waverly squinted, taking in her visage. Forest green mixed with dull copper.  _ Why is she drenching wet?  _ Her eyes flew shut as fear passed over her like cold water.

“You aren’t alone.” Wynonna snuggled closer.

_ That’s the problem. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Corner:  
> 'Closer to Fine' by Indigo Girls  
> 'Cum on Feel the Noize' by Quiet Riot  
> 'my tears ricochet' by Taylor Swift
> 
> I would love to hear from you down below or over on Twitter, @reusabletears.


	3. This Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Giving my wife a writing credit for changing one word in this fic. It was an important change.
> 
> *****  
> In loving memory of Bobby.  
> I never felt more like family.

_ My broken house behind me _

_ And good things ahead _

_ A girl named Cathy _

_ Wants a little of my time _

_ Six cylinders underneath the hood _

_ Crashing and kicking _

_ Aha! Listen to the engine whine _

_ I am going to make it through this year _

_ If it kills me _

  * _‘This Year’ -- The Mountain Goats_



_ ***** _

Waverly stared straight ahead, clutching desperately to the paper evidence bag the coroner gave her. Wyonna’s hand was resting between her shoulder blades as they slowly made their way down main street towards Graymore and Sons Funeral Home. Her sister had been amazing, picking up Nicole’s will from Sheriff Nedley and saving Waverly the trip inside. The bed in the barn was the only place she truly wanted to be, but Waverly was determined to seem strong. As far as she was concerned, it was the only way to deal with death.

She sighed deeply as the pair came closer to Shorty’s. Waverly’s bar was hard to miss, dark and foreboding, across the street from where they were currently walking. Waverly stopped suddenly, studying how dull it looked to her now. The door opened and Figment Nicole stepped out; Waverly drawing in a shallow breath at her appearance. Figment Nicole waved before looking both ways to jog across the street, making Waverly roll her eyes. 

“Good morning, Waverly.” Figment Nicole nodded, water dripping off of a short, stray ringlet. 

“What’s wrong?” Wynonna asked behind Waverly but she held Figment Nicole’s gaze.

_ This is cruel. _

Figment Nicole’s head cocked to one side before she looked down at herself. “Oh. This isn’t what I was wearing when I--”

“Don’t say it,” Waverly warned.

“Don’t say what?” Wynonna questioned, placing a hand over Waverly’s brow. “Do you need to sit down?”

“You don’t recognize me, do you?” Figment Nicole’s voice had an edge of melancholy as her forehead furrowed. 

Waverly ignored Wynonna, for now, instead taking a few moments to study Figment Nicole. The illusion was rolling back and forth on the balls of her feet, flinging bits of water around. She had seen Figment Nicole throughout the morning but always looked away, terrified to see her wife soaking wet. It was the only thing she truly knew about her death. Now that Waverly had time to take Figment Nicole in, she relaxed a tiny bit, noticing her outfit wasn’t the same as the one she had left their home in two days ago. She was wearing Nicole’s Foxelli boots, convertible tan pants, and her forest green Marmot rain jacket. Items that were all familiar to Waverly. 

_ Do you always dress like what you want to discuss? _

Figment Nicole’s lips dropped into a pensive pout before a small smile spread. “No, but you prefer it.”

Waverly almost growled.

“Waves?” Wynonna stepped around in front of her, partially blocking her view. “Let’s go to your office, ok? I called Dolls and he’s going to come sit with you-- I’ll, I’ll work with Mr. Graymore.”

Waverly tried hard to seem neutral, put together. “No, no. I want to talk to him.”

“There isn’t much to talk about,” Wynonna soothed, shaking Nicole’s will while running her hand through Waverly’s hair. Wynonna looked tired, stressed. Could Waverly help her? “Nicole knew she couldn’t have a sky funeral so she requested to be cremated and for us only to have a wake. She also refused any formal police procession-- even if she died in the line of duty. I just need to set up a cremation and I will bring back urn options. Nicole left her ashes to you.”

_ Right. Wake. Cremation. No formal Police involvement.  _ Nicole’s words rung loudly inside Waverly’s head, _ “I am just a servant of people. No more, no less.”  _ The more Wynonna explained, the more Waverly remembered what Nicole had wanted.  _ Then why was I trying to give her a sky funeral? _

“Because that’s what she  _ really _ wanted.” Figment Nicole leaned into Waverly’s view. “We can talk in your office. I know we tended to do other things in there--”

“Ok!” Waverly blurted, focusing back on Wynonna before adding. “Do you need--”

“No, no, Babygirl.” Wynonna smiled sadly. “I’ll be ok. I just--”

Waverly watched as Wynonna turned and looked back down the street towards the Sheriff’s Station, towards Nicole’s empty parking spot on the curb. Wynonna’s lip quivered as her left hand traveled up her right arm, touching her bare skin where her leather jacket would normally be. Waverly’s chest tightened.

“Where’s your jacket?”

Wynonna’s eyes snapped back to Waverly’s, the icy blue was murky. “I lost it. It got caught. Trying to find Nicole. I couldn’t find Nicole. I’m a better swimmer than she is. Why was I at work? I should have been--”

Wynonna’s stream of consciousness trailed off, breathing in deeply before pulling Waverly in for a tight hug.

“Tell her that I’m glad her jacket got caught. She could have died.” 

Waverly felt her body buzz, the resentment against Nicole growing as she looked into her doppelganger’s deep brown eyes. “You did everything you could, Wyn.”

“No. I could have done more, which is why I am going to walk you over to Shorty’s before taking care of everything at Graymore’s. It’s the least--” Wynonna pulled back, moving to rub her thumbs over Waverly’s face. “It’s the least I could do after Nicole saved…”

The elephant was back, fanning the flames surrounding Waverly with its huge, oversized ears. It was a moot point to refer to her feelings as anything other than deep seated indignation. Even shallower to pretend like she wanted to stay standing here. So Waverly wrenched herself from Wynonna, depositing the evidence bag in her arms before walking right through Figment Nicole and out into the street; not once looking in either direction. Heavy footsteps were coming in from her left as she entered the sidewalk, reaching out her hand to pull open Shorty’s heavy door.

“Let me.” Dolls calm, deep voice reached Waverly and she stopped on a dime.

He opened the door, the sounds of light lunch chatter and smell of cheap beer hit Waverly with a familiar pang of responsibility. Waverly flicked her eyes around, noticing as her regulars all looked up from their respective haunts and silence rolled around the room. The attention made her want to run.  _ You should be going to Graymore’s. You should be packing up Nicole’s stuff at your house.  _

_ You should be putting Nicole to rest. _

Before she could turn, Waverly felt a warm hand on the small of her back leading her down the first couple of steps and further into her bar. Waverly’s main bartender waved sweetly at her and she nodded weakly in response. A motion to her left caught her eye, and Waverly turned her head just as Lonnie pressed his hand to his chest. There were huge tears rolling down his cheeks as he peered pitifully at her. 

“He’s drinking my favorite beer.” 

Waverly turned her head to the right, Figment Nicole was holding a tap and grinning at her from behind the bar. Waverly felt her stomach bottom out as she noticed the beer she was pouring.

“Last Best IPA. A Calgary legend that you so wonderfully had your distributor provide for  _ every _ Purgatorian.” Figment Nicole tilted the now full glass upright and placed it on the bar.

“Not for every Purgatorian, it was for my  _ least _ favorite Purgatorian,” Waverly retorted, but grabbed the glass anyway.

“You sure that’s a--” Dolls began to say but Waverly shot him a glare and he instead pointed towards her office. “Come on.”

In the last few steps before the stairs, Reverend Loggins stood up from his usual spot and stepped towards Waverly. “May God be with you and your family.”

Waverly knew she should say thank you but instead she said nothing, turning to take the stairs.

_ God wasn’t there at the river. You can’t beg for God’s help when it doesn’t exist in the first place. _

She took the stairs two at a time, uncaring as her beer sloshed over the edges and onto her hand and wrist. The door to the hallway was already open and she trotted down the hallway before shouldering her way into her office. Figment Nicole was already inside, sitting on her bookshelf behind her desk and dripping water onto Waverly’s plush office chair.

“What is it with you and high places?”

“You don’t want anyone to sit on me, do you?”

Waverly snorted, her body’s ache more apparent now that she was in the comfort of her office. She passed her desk to sit underneath Figment Nicole’s feet before leaning back to look up at her tormentor. “Now who is sitting on who?”

“Waverly?” Dolls’s confused voice stood in her doorway, his eyes moving between her and the place where she knew he couldn’t see Figment Nicole.

Dolls could see through any speck of bullshit, he was a former US Marshal after all, and Waverly didn’t even try to hide her disdain for anything. With a jerk of her elbow she roughly brought the glass of beer up to her lips and let herself talk a long, hard swallow. The tropical citrus notes of the beer lingered on her tongue and she coughed slightly, grimacing at the flavor.

“Nicole has shit taste.”

“Except for you,” Figment Nicole encouraged.

“Except for me.” Waverly clicked at Dolls, reveling in the fear that crossed over his features.

Dolls stepped in and closed the door, taking a few extra moments to lean against it. Waverly felt a tinge of regret but the fire consumed that quickly and she downed the rest of the terrible beer. 

“Have you talked to Wynonna?” Dolls asked, his forehead now leaning on her back of the door kitten calendar. 

“Sure.” Waverly’s displeasure was apparent and Dolls picked up on it.

“Doc?” Dolls asked quietly.

Waverly felt a jolt in her chest. “No.”

“Eliza?”

Waverly only shook her head.

“Alice?”

“You need to talk to Alice.” Figment Nicole reminded her.

“Kind of.”

Dolls turned slowly before crossing delicately to a chair, Nicole’s usual chair, in front of her desk. Waverly couldn’t hide her pain at the action and he stood, moving to sit in the chair next to it instead. “Can we talk?”

“You two need to talk.” The annoying but sweet voice came from above.

_ I don’t want to talk. _

“Sure.”

Dolls usually pinned up exterior began to crumble in front of Waverly’s eyes as he gripped the armrests of his chair. Dolls leaned in closer, his face as tumultuous as she had ever seen it. “I’m so sorry, Waverly. Nicole’s death is all my fault.”

A quick pop inside her chest and she felt her smug anger deflate as Dolls moved his gaze to his feet. 

“I should have known the river was dangerous. I remember telling Wynonna how intense the rain was and how the barometric pressure was bothering my back. I mean, I went through special forces training for God’s sake!” Dolls voice was ratcheting up and Waverly felt her body freeze and go numb as he continued. “Doc and I had no business taking our girls there and Nicole-- she went out of her way to make sure we were ok.”

“Comfort him.”

“Nicole was off duty?” Dolls leaned down to catch Waverly’s drifting gaze. “She was, right? I mean she had called me the day before to tell me she had two weeks off. Waverly-- she had all these great plans with you, with us.” 

Dolls flung himself back, kicking Waverly’s desk with force. The numbness refused to let Waverly have an emotional response. It was currently keeping her flames contained. All Waverly could do was look up at Figment Nicole. The hallucination was now leaned over and dripping huge water droplets down, almost like rain. 

Waverly wanted to beg God now. She wanted to feel that rain more than anything else.

“And she’s dead and it’s all my fault! I’m so fucking stupid.  _ I knew better _ . I know better! I should have dove in.”

Waverly closed her eyes.

“I should have held the girls out of the water. Why did she take that from me?”

Waverly felt wetness on her face and she gasped, opening her eyes in anticipation.  _ I can feel the rain-- your rain, Nicole! _ But Figment Nicole was gone.  _ You’re just crying. _

Disappointment crunched her body into a ball as Waverly clenched her jaw, letting the tears fall.

“Go away.”

*****

Dolls apologized to Waverly for what felt like hours. Waverly didn’t know quite how long, she hadn’t looked at her watch in days. Wynonna detailed the cremation, showed her a folder of urn options, and re-gifted her the evidence bag she had forced on her earlier. The ride to the homestead was quiet except for a quick question Waverly ignored about the house she shared with Nicole. She wasn’t ready for that. Who knows when she would be ready for that.

Figment Nicole rode in the bed of the truck, doing her best job acting like she was anyone but Nicole. Constantly leaning to be glimpsed in a mirror by Waverly or pantomiming surfing like Nicole was some Quicksilver Curl Champion. No, that was the cruelty of the whole thing. Nicole hated swimming. Surfing was out of the question. And Figment Nicole wouldn’t stop dripping ghost water over every surface Waverly loved. No matter what mean thoughts Waverly threw at her, Figment Nicole continued to always be just a glance away.

And now here she was, sitting in Wynonna and Doll’s kitchen refusing pickles. 

“You need to eat,” Wynonna groaned impatiently. “There is nothing else that can be done right now. Dolls told me you had a beer and like, normally I’d be really proud of you for drinking your problems away. I mean, it’s my brand and all, but Babygirl-- you gotta eat something real.”

_ None of this is real. _

Waverly shook her head instead reaching forward for the evidence bag, pulling it back into her chest. She wanted to open the bag so badly but everytime she tried, her fingers seemed to forget how to work properly.  _ I can’t wait to burn everything in here. _

“Is there anything you want to eat?” Wynonna asked. “Anything at all?”

“Hobo packs.” Figment Nicole practically shouted from the refrigerator, though this time she was looking inside it instead of being on top of it.

_ That’s insensitive of you, asshole. The politically correct name is Girl Guide packs.  _

“Right. Though if I remember correctly,” Figment Nicole sneered, closing the refrigerator door with a slam. “I corrected you about the name.”

_ Po-tay-to, Pah-tot-to. _

“Babygirl?” Wynonna was desperate and Waverly gave in.

“Girl Guide packs. Can you make me one?”

“Hobo packs? Sure-- I bet they are just as good in the oven.”

“No,” Waverly said calmly. “I want to go camping.”

“Now?” Wynonna blinked slowly. “It’s already almost dark outside. I mean, I gotta pack-- We might need to go get Haught’s--”

“I left a small go-bag in the barn with the rock climbing gear.” Figment Nicole was now standing on the table, sliding the hood of her rain jacket up and over her hair. “Just have Wynonna make you a hobo pack and maybe some coffee.”

_ She is going to want to come _ , Waverly thought, staring straight into Figment Nicole’s eyes.

“Tell her no. We need to talk.”

“No. I need to do this alone. Please make me a Girl Guide pack and a thermos of coffee.”

Wynonna opened her mouth like she was going to protest before letting it fall shut. 

“Alright.”

*****

The fire finally found its footing and Waverly leaned back on her heels, thankful it hadn’t taken too long to be self-sufficient. The sun was already below the horizon and the slight summer chill was rolling through.  _ Why am I out here _ , she thought to herself before looking over at the tent she had hastily constructed.  _ Nicole wouldn’t be pleased with your half-assed outdoor skills.  _

“You made an effort. I always appreciated a good effort.” Figment Nicole answered, cross legged across the fire. “Are you ready to talk?”

Waverly groaned and reached down to grab her vegan Girl Guide pack and the pair of tongs Wynonna had packed with it. With practiced hands, she inserted the pack onto the already created coals, making sure it wasn’t too close to the flames. A small gust passed by and Waverly shivered, laying the tongs down and sitting back against the log she had pulled close to the fire pit.

“Your Mom made this campsite, right?” Figment Nicole asked cheerfully, leaning to look towards the Homestead through the trees. “Just far enough away to not see the porch light but not so far she couldn’t corral you girls home.”

“She did like to control everything.”

The fire crackled and a log dropped. Waverly grabbed Nicole’s go bag and pulled it closer to herself, reaching in a hand to pull out one of Nicole’s fleece pullovers. The familiar dark blue was comforting and she slid the fabric over herself, taking in Nicole’s lingering scent like it was a drug. The flames in her chest licked higher than the ones at her feet and Waverly considered how difficult it was going to be to go home again.

“How about now?” Figment Nicole winked.

“Sure, while I burn your stuff,” Waverly cut back, reaching for the brown evidence bag and sliding a finger underneath the taped edge. “What stupid shit did you carry into the water anyway? I’m surprised this bag isn’t heavier-- takes a lot to drag down your ego.”

Figment Nicole flinched and guilt prickled over Waverly’s neck.

“Sorry, I--” Waverly began, but her hand clutched around the only item inside.  _ “Oh.” _

Waverly slowly removed her hand before tossing the bag into the flames. After a few moments of staring at her clenched knuckles, Waverly opened her fingers and her breathing became ragged. Nicole’s wedding ring was so simple. White gold with a purple heart wood inlay. Waverly slowly tried it on each finger, finding it fit best on her left middle. 

_ Right next to yours. _

“Where was the rest of your stuff?”

“I don’t know,” Figment Nicole answered. “I’m not Nicole.”

“Right,” Waverly coughed. “So-- what did you want to talk about this time?”

“The fight,” Figment Nicole clapped and grinned. “Our  _ big _ fight.”

Waverly shook her head, leaning forward to grab the tongs and turn the foil pack. “You mean, ‘The Weekend That Must Not Be Named’?”

Nicole put her hands up in a coy shrug. “It ended well.”

Waverly glanced down at Nicole’s ring, the fire highlighting the purple in the wood. She should have told Figment Nicole no. She didn’t need to discuss that weekend to help her through this. The only way forward was with action, not going down memory lane with a delusion she probably needed professional help to exorcise. But there was something, maybe it was the fire or the way Nicole’s wedding ring felt touching her own, pushing her to talk. To listen.

“Ok.” 

“You froze earlier,” Figment Nicole pointed out with a lazy finger gun. “When Dolls needed you. You froze.”

“I don’t see how that--” Waverly seethed, already feeling defensive.

“You froze way back then too. During the song, in the car on the way to Waputik.”

Waverly felt her defensiveness growing and she busied herself with the foil pack. “The stupid goat song.”

Figment Nicole leaned over onto her side, propping her head up with her hand. “‘This Year’ by The Mountain Goats. I thought it would be amusing to play since we were going to a range whose name translates to ‘white goat’.”

“2005.” Waverly grumbled, ignoring the meat of the response.

Figment Nicole laughed and clutched her heart. “So you do remember!”

“It was your ex-wife’s favorite song,  _ of course _ I remember!” Waverly shouted, unsure why she felt jealous at this moment.  _ Can you feel jealous of a dead person’s ex-wife? _

“And you froze,” Figment Nicole said gaily, pursing her lips. “When you should have let it all out. Let you and I figure it out.”

“You dropped the ex-wife thing on me like a week before that trip--” Waverly whined. “I wasn’t ready to talk, I wasn’t ready to communicate.”

“But I was. I wanted to tell you how it made me feel. How I work differently than you do. But instead you let that song play and let me beg all the way to the campsite.” 

“I was mad.”

“I put everything together in the pouring rain while you sat in the jeep and watched.” Figment Nicole sat up and crossed around the fire to sit as close to Waverly as she could. Waverly couldn’t help but notice the water still rolling off of her jacket and down onto her boots. 

“The tarps you put up were nice.” Waverly tried to remove herself from the guilt of the memory.

“Definitely one of my finer ‘be the better person' moments. I was so pissed you just sat there, dry, watching me do all the work.” 

“I was feeling petty.”

Figment Nicole laughed before turning fully towards her. Waverly wished she could hold hands with the make-believe.

“I fucked up, Waverly. I shouldn’t have kept the fact that I had been married, even if it was a Vegas wedding, away from you. But you fucked up too. Refusing to see all the different ways people communicate or how they may bottle up old wounds.”

Waverly slowly turned her head, meeting Figment Nicole’s compassionate gaze. Her heart ached for her to be real. “What is the point of discussing this? We talked through all that. We got so much better at talking with each other.”

Figment Nicole slapped the palm of her hand against her head and Waverly listened to the sound echo in the trees. “Bingo. You hit the ginger on the head!”

A small chuckle escaped Waverly’s lips and she reached forward to flip her meal over. “I hate you.”

“We’ll fix that,” Figment Nicole laughed, tilting her head towards the homestead. “How about Dolls, Wynonna, Eliza, or Alice? Are you ready to communicate with them? You aren’t the only person suffering, Waverly.”

“After I am finished with you.”

“Well,” Figment Nicole clapped. “You and I both know you’ll never be done with me.”

The campsite went quiet as Waverly adjusted the foil pack she knew she wouldn’t eat. Figment Nicole’s words rolled around lightly in her brain as she tried to come to terms with her new found guilt and ever present rage. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Corner:  
> 'This Year' by The Mountain Goats  
> 'my tears ricochet' by Taylor Swift
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts below or over on Twitter, @reusabletears. Any and all feedback is appreciated.


	4. I Belong to You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In loving memory of Becca.  
> Hope they have cheap wine wherever you are.

_ I know I could be spending a little too much time with you _

_ But time and too much don't belong together like we do _

_ If I had all my yesterdays I'd give 'em to you too _

_ I belong to you now _

_ I belong to you _

  * _“I Belong to You” -- Brandi Carlile_



_ ***** _

“You’re slouching.” 

Waverly groaned at Figment Nicole’s comment. The ignus fatuus was standing proudly on top of the Homestead’s kitchen table, decked in Nicole’s usual pajamas. Waverly’s eyes outlined the lavender tank top and white sleep shorts, before they lazily rolled down her bare legs. 

“It’s nasty when you put your bare feet on the table,” Waverly scolded, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Alrighty then, grumpalumpagus, ” Figment Nicole sighed and then snapped, disappearing and reappearing on top of the pantry cabinet in the far corner. “Happy now?”

“Yes.”

Waverly turned her attention away from Figment Nicole and back down on to herself, her simple black dress itching to be taken off. The past week had passed in a blur of Figment Nicole’s antics and Wynonna’s pleading, culminating into today’s wake. Waverly’s moment to send Nicole off for good. And if she was lucky, Figment Nicole would follow.

“You look beautiful,” Figment Nicole said softly. “But you know what would pull the look together?”

_ Not having to go to your wake?  _

“The earrings I gave you for Christmas last year.”

“The angel wing ones?” Waverly finally moved her attention back on Figment Nicole. 

Figment Nicole hummed in appreciation before nodding.

“Morning,” Dolls said from the doorway, looking tentatively between Waverly and the top of the pantry. “Are you hungry?”

Waverly’s focus snapped to Dolls, who looked slightly uncomfortable standing in his black button up and black slacks. Waverly felt her residual guilt from their interaction in Shorty’s flood back, making her mouth dry. Instead of speaking, Waverly just nodded. 

Dolls returned the nod with a tepid smile before crossing to the fridge, pulling open the door to gaze inside. A rumble and sound of screeching brakes came from outside and Dolls let out a moan that sounded like equal parts complaint and relief. “That idiot needs to get his brakes fixed.” 

“Especially if he is going to be driving around the girls,” Figment Nicole added with emphasis. 

Waverly then heard a parade of feet and the kitchen door flung open, Alice and Eliza bursting in only to both freeze at the sight of Waverly seated at the table. Alice gasped, her hands immediately going inside her black pants pockets before she flew to her left.

"Alice?" Dolls called after her but the tiny footsteps bounding up the stairs let the whole room know she was long gone. “Damn. I’m sorry Waverly--”

“It’s fine,” Waverly responded but kept her eyes on Eliza, who was studying her curiously. “Hi, Eliza.”

Eliza visibly swallowed and shyly hid her face, nervously twirling back and forth in her black, tutu-style dress. Before Eliza could respond, Doc entered the kitchen and kneeled behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“You can tell her,” Doc assured Eliza.

Eliza nodded but walked to her Father instead, wrapping her tiny arms around Dolls’s leg. 

“Hi, Baby.” Dolls cooed, placing a free hand on her head before leading her to the table. “We are about to have some breakfast, why don’t you sit?”

Waverly watched this interaction closely, her chest burning red hot.  _ What if... _

“I’m sorry,” Figment Nicole said with such sincerity that Waverly had to bite her lip to keep in a sob.

Dolls must have caught wind of the change in emotion as he looked at her with a knowing glint. A distant slam interrupted their moment, followed by Wynonna screaming out Alice’s name in a frustrated voice. “Can I--”

“Go,” Doc said. “I will take care of breakfast.”

Dolls picked Eliza up and slid her into the booster chair already pulled to the table before kissing her on the forehead and backing out of the room. He exchanged another insightful glance with Doc before turning fully and ascending the stairs. Waverly felt her anger grow again but it was extinguished almost immediately when Doc stepped up to the table and removed his hat.

“I’m so sorry, Waverly,” Doc shared with a stark vulnerability before leaning down to kiss Eliza on the head. “There is not much else I can do but offer that apology and--” Doc met her stare. “Thank the sacrifice.”

Waverly held back an eye roll and shrug, for Eliza more than for Doc. The young girl had barely stopped looking at her since they’d arrived.

“Now, what do you lovely ladies want for breakfast?”

“Belgian Waffle with powdered sugar and real maple syrup.” Figment Nicole smacked her lips. “Ooo! And a tall glass of orange juice.”

_ You can eat dirt for all I care. _

“We can talk about that later.”

“Eliza?” Doc looked to her, clapping his hands together.

“Green toasties.” Eliza perked up but kept her eyes on Waverly. “Aunty Nicky would make up green toasties.”

Waverly’s heart clenched and she shut her eyes. The girls were the only ones allowed to use nicknames with Nicole.

“Green toasties?” Doc grumbled, leaning in the refrigerator. “What’s that, honey?”

Eliza shrugged. “Green toasties.”

Doc sighed impatiently as he fiddled with ingredients, obviously trying to decipher what the child wanted. Waverly felt herself wanting to ease their suffering so she piped up, “It’s avocado toast.”

Doc’s head popped up over the door and he smiled warmly. “Alrighty then. Two green toasties coming up.”

“Eliza likes hers with salt and mashed avocado only.” Figment Nicole reminded Waverly.

“Eliza like just salt, right--”

“No,” Eliza shook her head. “I want eggs too.”

The numbness was back, enveloping Waverly in an unnatural hug.

“I thought you didn’t like hard boiled eggs, Nugget,” Doc chuckled.

“Aunty Nicky does.” Eliza’s calm voice reverberated off the walls. “She made it for Aunty Wavy.”

Doc looked at Waverly expectantly and all she could do was nod as Figment Nicole swayed her bare feet in her peripheral vision.  _ Damn you, Nicole.  _

*****

Wakes are terrible. 

The numbness Eliza elicited at breakfast had refused to go away, no matter how hard Waverly tried to seem like an actual grieving widow. When Waverly had discussed talking to her family with Figment Nicole, she hadn’t expected her feelings to get worse after her first real attempt. The only thing keeping Waverly inside of Shorty’s at this moment was Nicole’s urn. The simple purple heart wood box was sitting delicately under a large, official Sheriff's Deputy portrait of Nicole. In a weird way, Waverly believed that Nicole’s urn held the final piece of her puzzle. She imagined that picking it up was like placing down that final piece. 

An end of an era. 

An end to her suffering. So Waverly stood next to the display diligently, hoping people would hurry up and pay their respects and leave. Waverly wanted to pick up the urn. Waverly wanted the pain to stop. 

“Why did they pick this picture?” Figment Nicole asked, standing in front of the display. “I look way too serious.”

Waverly huffed, smoothing her hands over her dress.  _ Because you are a cop, doofus. Cops get cop pictures. _

“I would have preferred a picture of us. Or a picture of the whole crew-- like when we all went to the theme park in Calgary. I love that picture.”

_ Sorry, _ Waverly thought angrily, slamming her foot in frustration as another group of mourners began making their way towards her.  _ I didn’t get what I wanted so neither do you, asshole. _ Figment Nicole looked over her shoulder at the mourners before crossing around the display to stand behind Waverly. Waverly watched her move, wishing she’d go somewhere else.  _ You couldn’t apparate some black clothing? The pajamas were cute for like twenty minutes. _

“I need the pajamas for later.”

_ What, why? _

“Look alive, Waverly,” Figment Nicole laughed. “It’s showtime.”

“My condolences,” Cindy said as she grabbed Waverly’s hand without asking permission. The overly touchy woman ran the nail salon down the street and would frequently call Nicole to deal with the teenagers who liked to skate in her back parking lot. “I am so sorry to hear about what happened to Officer Haught. She was definitely a hero.”

“Thank you.” Waverly smiled as best she could, looking behind Cindy to see Wynonna holding Alice and watching from afar. “I appreciate you coming.”

“Everything happens for a reason, my dear.” Cindy patted her hand.

Waverly bristled and pulled her hand away.  _ Like fucking hell it does! _

“Sweet!” Figment Nicole responded sarcastically. “I’m off the hook for dying now. Cindy just confirmed it was all part of some master plan. Guess you are going to have to be nicer to me now, Waverly.”

Waverly flared her nose and blew the air out of her chest in response. Cindy’s face pulled in disgust at the display before she moved on, leaving Waverly with her nail technician Tanya. 

“I am so sorry for your loss,” Tanya said timidly. “But you can rest easy, Nicole is no longer in pain. She is protecting angels with God now.”

_ No she’s not-- she’s standing behind me, protecting jack shit. _

“Ooh, good one Baby,” Figment Nicole beamed.

Waverly felt her heartbeat speed up as she shrugged at Tanya, the woman taking it as her cue to leave. She looked over at the urn and considered her options for leaving early before a woman cleared her throat in front of her.

“I’m really sorry, Waverly.” Chrissy Nedley reached out to rub her arm as she turned her attention on her old friend. “Nicole was--” Chrissy sucked in a breath. “Nicole will be missed.”

A crack formed inside Waverly as the sincerity in Chrissy’s voice pierced the emotional armor she had flung on for the wake. Chrissy and Waverly may not be best friends anymore but the love between them would always be there. “Thank you, Chrissy.”

Chrissy rubbed her arms and looked around. “It’s a lot, huh?”

“Too much. I don’t want to be here.” Waverly let slip, before her hand flew up to her mouth.  _ Don’t.  _ Waverly was becoming overwhelmed, quickly. 

“Chrissy doesn’t mind.”

“I know. If you need anything, please, call me.” Chrissy smiled sadly before moving on, leaving Waverly and her outburst to move back into the crowd. 

Before Waverly had a chance to get her bearings, Nedley was standing in front of her, his face showing his exhaustion clearly.  _ I can’t possibly-- _

“You can. He needs you,” Figment Nicole whispered even though only Waverly could hear her.

“Waverly.”

_ It’s just person after person after person,  _ Waverly thought as her body began to shake lightly.  _ I can’t do this anymore.  _ Waverly looked up for Wynonna or Dolls, anyone that could get her out of here fast.

“Nicole is--” Nedley coughed. “Nicole was the best deputy I ever had. As Sheriff, well, she would have made me look like a drunk rookie.”

Waverly’s sinuses began to burn and she just wobbled her head in a weird nod at the man who could be best described as Nicole’s only father figure.  _ Why haven’t I seen him yet? _

“Say something,” Figment Nicole urged.

“There isn’t anything I can say that will make this,” Nedley gestured to the room around them. “Any better for you. But-- please, reach out to me if you need something.”

“Fine.” Was all Waverly could say and she brought up her hands to cover her face, afraid to see what Nedley’s response would be. Instead the older man pulled her in for a tight hug and she stood there frozen as she listened to him whimper a bit.  _ I need to leave. _

“Thanks.” Waverly choked out and Nedley stepped back, wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve as Waverly felt the edges of her vision begin to close in.  _ I need to leave, Nicole. _

Figment Nicole didn’t answer and Waverly felt fear grip her as she looked around, trying to spot a glimpse of the specter. Everything was spinning out of control.  _ Where did you go you little shit! To eat the urinal cakes? You are worse that a todd-- _

“Mrs. Haught.” 

The formal greeting pulled her out of her frantic search and brought her back to the present. Lonnie was standing in front of her: full uniform, Stetson in hand, and with a determined gaze. Waverly did her best to pull everything together but she knew she was on her last thread. And as much as Figment Nicole’s presence pissed her off, Waverly was finding herself more angry that she was gone when she really needed her.

“My condolences for your loss,” Lonnie rumbled thickly, like he had more to say. “But-- can I say something?”

_ Nothing good comes from a but. _ Waverly nodded, the synapses in her brain still going haywire.

“I think this is wrong.” Lonnie pointed at the small table, urn, and portrait. “Nicole died a hero and should be treated like one in death.”

“Is he serious?” Figment Nicole said from behind her, spooking her a little and ratcheting her anxiety up one more level.

“Well she wanted--” Waverly began weakly.

“I don’t care.” Lonnie’s voice was raised and a murmur rolled through the crowd closest to them. “There should be a casket with the Canadian flag. A Ghost River Triangle Police procession with a  _ traditional _ burial.” Lonnie moved towards the table and Waverly froze, her blood now rushing through her ear. He reached out to touch Nicole’s urn. “Not some cheap box and--”

Waverly snapped. “Nicole doesn’t deserve any of it!”

Lonnie pressed his Stetson to his chest and stepped back, horror crossing his face.

“She didn’t die a hero to me! Nicole left my house for applesauce.” Waverly’s finger popped up and she stepped forward, blinking rapidly as tears began to stream.  _ “Applesauce, _ Lonnie! I killed my wife to make my stupid cupcakes vegan so take your hero bullshit and get the fuck out of my bar!”

Lonnie gulped. “I--”

“If you thought she wanted a Canadian Flag casket then you don’t know anything about the asshole that is currently inside that box,” Waverly continued, reaching down to pick up the urn. “This asshole,” Waverly shook the urn in his face. “Wanted to be picked apart by vultures in the mountains, not paraded down main street to the sound of Pete and Kyle’s mediocre bagpipes! I loved her more than life itself. And while I am overjoyed my nieces are alive, I will not have you come in here and decide what Nicole does and does not deserve.”

Waverly began to stomp away before turning around to knock over Nicole’s portrait for good measure. After the glass from the frame spread loudly across the floor, everyone fell silent with their eyes solely on Waverly. 

Waverly ignored everyone and pulled Nicole’s urn closer to her chest, her tears ricocheting off the top, and ran out of the bar.

*****

The drive to Waverly and Nicole’s house was a blur. By the time Waverly pulled into her spot and slammed the shifter into park, she noticed she had stolen Wynonna’s truck.  _ Fuck, _ she mentally cursed before slamming her palms into the steering wheel.  _ Maybe she’ll press charges. _

“You were really brave.” Figment Nicole grinned at her from the passenger seat.

“That’s rich coming from someone who wears underwear with kittens on them.” 

Figment Nicole gasped comically and clutched her chest, “I will have you know that I am currently wearing no underwear.”

Waverly didn’t comment, she just grabbed the urn and pushed open her car door with practiced fury. The house looked fine, not burgled like Wynonna had tried to joke, and Waverly sucked in a ragged breath before climbing the stairs to the front door. She focused all her current unhinged emotions on her keys, opening the locks slowly but accurately.

“I don’t wear underwear to bed, you know that.” Figment Nicole said from the fourth stair after Waverly pushed open the door. 

“Don’t you have ghost shit to do?” Waverly cut as she veered into the kitchen, depositing Nicole onto the island before throwing her keys at the sink. “I want to be alone.”

“I’m not a ghost,” Figment Nicole reminded her with a smile, now sitting awkwardly inside of their deep farm style sink. “And we need to talk again.”

“You know what,” Waverly stalked towards the figment and slammed her hands on her hips. “We do need to talk. About you--  _ leaving!” _

“Why?”

“Let me give you a list!” Waverly flung a stray finger into the air.

“Wake is over.” Waverly drew an invisible check.

“You are dead.” Waverly pointed at the urn.

“This--” Waverly flung her finger between Figment Nicole and her with gusto. “Is finished, I don’t need you anymore!”

A few moments passed, only marked by Waverly’s heavy breathing and the hum of the refrigerator.

“But you want me.” Figment Nicole looked at her with the most empathetic eyes.

The anger faded and Waverly slumped forward, steadying her hands on the sink front. “Of course I do but--”

“I’m dead.”

“You’re dead.”

“Ready to talk now?” Figment Nicole asked gently.

“What song?” Waverly answered with an air of defeat, pushing herself back from the sink and turning to cross the room towards the record player.

“Why would there be a song?” Figment Nicole knew the answer but pestered anyway.

“Because there was always a song with you.” Waverly kneeled in front of the small part of Nicole’s record collection, somehow knowing the record would be in here, and waited for Figment Nicole to hurry this along.

“‘I Belong to You’ by Brandi Carlile. Should be on ‘Firewatcher’s Daughter’.” Figment Nicole was now standing in the kitchen, her left hand holding her right arm limply against her body. 

“What year?” Waverly knew this memory already. Waverly  _ craved _ this memory.

“2015,” Nicole chuckled. “A year before we met.”

Waverly lightly drug her fingers along the spines of Nicole’s records, her body relaxing at how close the action made her feel to Nicole. She stopped on a deep purple spine and slipped it out, savoring the sound it made.  _ Whoosh. _ Waverly lifted up on the cover and flicked on the player, pulling the record from the sleeve and depositing the sleeve on the display Nicole set up so that the listener could admire the album cover while listening. With ease, she placed the right record on the table and moved the arm over the second song, gently placing the needle on the moving record. The room was filled with the gentle guitar picking.

“Do you remember when you found me in the kitchen?” Waverly asked, moving towards Figment Nicole. “The night after Eliza was born?”

“Yeah, you were upset because you thought you’d never want kids of your own.” 

“I thought you wanted kids.” Waverly’s voice cracked as she gazed up into her favorite brown eyes. “I thought me not wanting it was bad. I assumed I was ruining it for you.”

“No--” Figment Nicole shook her head. “It wasn’t a deal breaker for me.”

Waverly moved in as close as she could to Figment Nicole, wishing desperately she could imagine Nicole’s scent. Feel Nicole’s body underneath her hands. “You put on this song and asked me to dance.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Figment Nicole sighed happily. “Do you want to dance?”

“More than anything.” Waverly looked up into Figment Nicole’s eyes. “Could we try?”

“Of course.” Figment Nicole positioned her hands so that they hovered over Waverly’s hips.

Waverly wrapped her hands around Figment Nicole’s neck, letting them hover in mid air as she began to sway.

**I'm gonna die the exact same day as you**

**On the Golden Gate Bridge I'll hold you hand**

**And howl at the moon**

**Scrape the sky with tired eyes**

**And I will come find you**

**And I ain't scare cuz I'm never gonna miss you**

**I belong to you now**

**I belong to you**

For the first time since that horrible day, Waverly felt a semblance of peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Corner:  
> 'I Belong to You' by Brandi Carlile  
> 'my tears ricochet' by Taylor Swift
> 
> Love to hear from you below or on Twitter, @reusabletears.


	5. Joy of my Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it, y'all. Enjoy.
> 
> *****
> 
> In loving memory of Bill Norris.  
> Thanks for loving me like your own.

_ First time that I saw you _

_ Mmm, you took my breath away _

_ I might not get to Heaven _

_ But I walked with the angels that day _

  * _“Joy of my Life” -- Chris Stapleton_



_ ***** _

"Waverly?"

The world was slowly slipping in and out as Waverly groaned, reaching for anything around that she could throw over her face. She had been sleeping soundly and wanted it to stay that way. Her hand found purchase on the couch blanket and she pulled it over her head, sighing contentedly as it blocked out the light that was beginning to filter in through her eyelids.

"We need to talk." Nicole's voice entered her consciousness again. "You gotta get up."

_ No, thank you,  _ Waverly thought.  _ I'm ok for now.  _ She had spent half the night crying cathartically while Figment Nicole watched, she didn’t need to continue the display this morning. There had been something about her outburst at the wake that had flipped a switch inside of herself. Instead of feeling pure anger, Waverly just felt raw and out of sorts. Kind of like when you spend hours crying and have just accepted you won't feel better for a while. 

And that was just it, Waverly didn’t know when she would feel better.

"Please wake up--  _ for me? _ Before the gang gets here." 

Figment Nicole’s words were tender. Too tender for Waverly to ignore so she sighed and pulled down the cover before opening her eyes. Her heart clenched when she found Figment Nicole kneeling in front of her in the same outfit she had left the house in the day she died. Barely dry, slightly curly red hair paired with a black Johnny Cash t-shirt, tight blue jeans, and black Merrells. Waverly waited for the jolt of rage to hit her but there was nothing, nothing but an overwhelming urge to pull Nicole into herself. 

"I know, it's a lot. But you needed to see it." Figment Nicole looked desperate, the longing in her eyes matching the same pull in Waverly’s chest. "To see me."

"I'm sorry." Waverly swallowed thickly. "For calling you a bitch. And just overall being mean to you."

Figment Nicole smiled and chuckled before running her right hand through her tousled hair. "That's ok. I kind of deserved it."

"No, you didn't," Waverly beamed. "You did the right thing. You always do the right thing and I admit, I was mad that the ‘right thing’ took you away from me."

"I didn't want to leave you."

"I know and I--" Waverly huffed out the bubble that had grown in her chest. "I know that now. Thanks to you."

Figment Nicole's brow creased in momentary confusion before she bit her lip, adoration filling her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too."

The pair let silence fall over them as they enjoyed the momentary peace. Waverly still felt her body's pull between numbness, pain, anger, and all the other sad emotions she had barely any time to process. But it was all worth it to have this moment with Nicole, even if that Nicole was made up for her in her own mind.

"I still reserve the right to blame you for whatever I want, so don't think telling me that you're sorry will change any of that."

Figment Nicole laughed warmly and nodded, "I can live with that I think."

Waverly smiled a smile that actually reached her eyes before she heard the crackle of gravel outside. She looked around and remembered that she was on the sectional in their house, still in her black dress from the wake. Figment Nicole stood and wrung her hands nervously.

"That's my cue to skedaddle." Figment Nicole pointed towards the noise. "Let the crew know I'm really sorry. I did the best I could-- given the circumstances."

This was it, Figment Nicole was leaving for good and while Waverly was disappointed she also knew that the time was right. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and gently nodded, attempting to memorize everything about Nicole. This was going to be the last time she would see her, even if it was a figment of her, standing in all her glory. Waverly didn’t want to forget a thing.

"You were the joy of my life," Figment Nicole breathed out and softly smiled. "I'll miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too."

Figment Nicole backed up before turning to cross the living room towards the back of the house. Just before she went down the hallway, Figment Nicole swiveled and looked back.

"Forgive yourself at some point-- For me, please?" Figment Nicole scratched the back of her head as she studied Waverly. "Deal?"

"Deal."

And then she was gone and for the first time since Nicole had died, Waverly felt utterly alone in it all. Better in a way, but still so very alone.

*****

Wynonna came over the day Figment Nicole disappeared and hadn’t left Waverly’s side since. Two days afterwards, the sisters sat close on the couch watching a random episode of the Golden Girls in Nicole’s memory. Waverly felt raw but the urge to sit and enjoy something that Nicole loved was overwhelming and with Wynonna there, she was able to do it without breaking down. Waverly blew out some air before adjusting her feet on the coffee table, pushing aside the open bag of All Dressed Lay’s; another one of Nicole's favorites. Wynonna turned down the volume on the show, the laugh track now significantly deafened.

“You ok?” Wynonna poked her side. “Are we overdoing it?”

Waverly leaned back and breathed out a deep sigh before rolling her head to look at her sister. Wynonna’s hair was more wild than usual and her normally relaxed expression was dotted with exhaustion and concern.  _ You haven’t been fair to her _ . “I should be asking you that.”

Wynonna scoffed and held up her palm in warning. “No, no. I’m fine. My wife didn’t drown--” Wynonna stopped herself with a grimace and searched Waverly’s face, waiting for her reaction like she might reach out and slap her. “Sorry.”

“No need to be-- I’m not going to hit you, Wynonna.” She grabbed her hand and squeezed. A thought crossed Waverly’s mind and she let it manifest into the air. “Did I… scare you? At the wake, I mean.”

“No, no.  _ Definitely not.” _ Wynonna chuckled. “I was actually relieved. You had been scaring me all the way up until the wake.”

This made Waverly’s brow furrow and she paused, taking in this new information slowly. Wynonna turned to look at her, taking a long swig from the handle of whiskey they had been passing back and forth for the past couple hours.  _ Before the wake? _

“Your whole ‘must plan the wake and funeral routine’ was very, very odd for an Earp. We usually drink or yell away our problems,” Wynonna articulated with a coy grin. “Watching you hang Lonnie out to dry felt like my sister had returned to me.”

“I was  _ way  _ out of line though. I’ve already got Chrissy getting together an apology basket for me to bring to him at the station.” Waverly frowned as she thought about going into the Sheriff’s office. “Well, maybe I’ll have her deliver it too.”

“Mmm,” Wynonna hummed and then turned her attention back on the show. A few more moments passed where Waverly sat in her pain, thinking back on all the people she had hurt when her anger was more all consuming. Wynonna shifted again. “You know-- Dolls isn’t mad at you, right?”

_ Did she read your mind? _ Waverly blinked then blurted, “Figment Wynonna?”

“Figment Whatta-What in the hell are you on about?” Wynonna’s face pulled. “I’m talking about Dolls, Babygirl. When you yelled at him at Shorty’s. He felt terrible-- you know, for throwing up his feelings all over you like that. He may seem tight assed on the outside but that’s just his tight ass. He is actually a big softie.”

Waverly felt her cheeks warm as she rolled her eyes at her sister’s crude joke. “I still need to apologize.”

“No, you don’t.” Wynonna took another long swig. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“It’s not his fault though.”

Wynonna didn’t respond to that, she just began to peel the label off of the glass bottle while biting her lower lip.

“You don’t--” Waverly began, hesitant to take this conversation out of her comfort zone. She knew they needed to discuss it. But she was unsure if Wynonna would be receptive or if she could be objective. “Blame yourself, do you?”

Wynonna’s shoulders traveled up her neck and Waverly looked away, wishing Figment Nicole hadn’t taken a hike and would insert some funny joke into this awkward moment. Time passed slowly and right when Waverly reached for the remote, Wynonna’s hand covered her own and patted softly. 

“I can’t blame Alice and Eliza.”

_ There it is. _ Waverly breathed in deeply and slid closer to Wynonna. “I’m the one that let her go-- instead of having her send a deputy.”

“I told Doc to take the girls-- they love the river.” Wynonna closed her eyes.  _ “Loved _ the river. And he wanted to take them bowling instead but I knew the river would tire them out enough to be well behaved when they stayed over with you and Nicole. We argued about it, loudly, like we always do. And Dolls was sweet and decided to forego his workout and go with Doc. To smooth it all over and help make it easier.”

Waverly didn’t respond as she took it all in. She searched herself, trying to see if any of this new information changed the way she felt.  _ Nope, still annoyed with Nicole. Still thankful the girls are alright. _ She set her jaw before asking, “But did you make it rain?”

“No.”

“Create a small rip current?”

“No.”

Waverly felt a smile. “Decide that the right way to teach your overactive redheaded child how to swim was by tossing her in a lake?”

“No!” Wynonna laughed openly, leaning towards Waverly. “Did they really do that to Nicole?”

“Yeah. She is a terrible swimmer.” Waverly grinned slightly at the memory, remembering exactly how Nicole had told it, right there in the pool on their first vacation together; doggie-paddle and all. The pain seared but she didn’t feel defensive, she just reached for the bottle of whiskey and took a long draw. “Was a terrible swimmer-- And a terrible student. I tried to help her learn but you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, I guess.”

“Hey now!” Wynonna gasped. “Nicole and I were the same age you know. I am not old, I am in my prime.” She then winced at Waverly’s small flinch before grabbing the bottle back. “God, I can’t say anything right tonight.”

“No, don’t worry about it. We need to let it all out, I guess.” Waverly shrugged noncommittally. “I have to get over her somehow.”  _ That’s a huge lie _ , Waverly thought instantly.

“Is that what you think?”

“Isn’t it though? I mean, I can’t possibly sit here and watch Golden Girls forever in a puddle of my feelings for her.” Waverly pointed at everything they gathered, her chest burning. “At some point I am going to need to move on.”

“I won’t be able to do that.” Wynonna’s tone turned serious as her voice lowered. Waverly studied her face as she gripped the bottle harder. “Like ever.”

Waverly reached to rub her shoulder, encouraging her to go on.

“I will forever see Nicole in Alice. In Eliza.” Wynonna turned. “In you.”

“Yeah.” Was all Waverly could say.  _ I see Nicole in you too, Wynonna. _

“Why do you want me to think you have moved on?” 

That was the real question, wasn’t it? Waverly had spent this entire time either being super angry or touting a plan for closure. And now she was at a crossroads of sorts, trying her best to figure out which path fit this new world best. Waverly focused on the memories that Figment Nicole had been so keen to talk to her about. Whether or not those moments had meaning or were just a part of her own mental fortitude crumbling around her. The thoughts scared Waverly and she felt her heartbeat quicken. 

“Hey-- it’s ok.” Wynonna turned and pulled her in for a hug. “You’re ok. You can choose whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Yeah. This-- none of this is set in stone, Waverly. Feel however you want to feel for however long you want to feel it.”

Waverly felt Wynonna’s easy words wash over her and she searched her icy blue eyes to make sure she had heard her correctly. 

“If you’re never ok again, that’s ok. Nicole isn’t here to enforce those kinds of rules-- not like she could enforce anything with you anyway,” Wynonna chuckled and leaned forward to flick off the TV. 

“I guess.” Waverly finally got out, her eyes flicking to Nicole’s urn in the center of the coffee table. The urn’s wood was no longer as purple without the glow of the television to bring out it’s hue. “You don’t think she’d mind?”

“You called her an asshole so I think it’s cool. Which by the way--” Wynonna scooted forward and picked Nicole up respectfully. “What are you going to do with Haught-Box?”

“Oh my God, Wynonna! I don’t know!” Waverly giggled before playfully slapping her sister’s arm. “She would hate that you called her that.”

“Naw.” Wynonna exhaled fondly. “She’d love it.”

*****

Another couple of weeks passed and Waverly did her best to recreate a semblance of a routine. She ignored any urges to go through the house and rid herself of Nicole’s things while also trying her best to not turn it into a museum. It was a hard line to walk and Waverly found herself having good days and bad days, doing her best to accept them as they came. Today she was setting up her guest room for the girls as they had missed their mother, and Waverly was scared they’d soon assume she hated them. Which of course she didn't. Waverly being absent in their lives had been just a terrible byproduct of Nicole’s choice. And she was working to change it. 

Her gaze was pulled toward the dresser by the door, Nicole’s urn sitting peacefully, watching her clean. Waverly had told herself not to drag Nicole from room to room but her therapist had explained it was ok; to let Nicole’s urn be a part of the process in any way Waverly wanted. And so she did. Though she had forgotten to tell her therapist she also talked to her.

“You think they will like these sheets even though they aren’t PAW Patrol?” Waverly asked, sliding the last corner on and ignoring the emptiness in her chest at the reminder. “Though I guess Alice is getting too old for PAW Patrol.”

Waverly paused to allow Nicole the space to answer, a feat she’d never think was possible after she had spent so much time trying to keep Figment Nicole quiet. 

“I like them. Little stars and moons, just chilling in the universe.” Waverly leaned back as she tucked a corner of the newly laid top sheet into place. “You’d like them too.”

Waverly picked up the plush throw style bedspread and began stretching it out over the twin sized bed. As she pulled the third corner over she remembered back to her conversation with Wynonna a few weeks prior, the one about what to do with Nicole. She stopped and turned to sit on the bed, staring at the urn. 

“What do you want to happen to you, Nicole?” Waverly asked. “I know you don’t really want to be cooped up in a box with me all day.”

Waverly listened closely, her mouth going slightly dry as her heart waited patiently for a sign. Just as she began to feel embarrassed, the sound of folksy guitar drifted up from downstairs.

“Nicole?” Waverly blinked before stepping forward the few steps to grab Nicole’s urn and bring it close to her chest. A man’s twangy voice drifted up and Waverly immediately moved from the room and jogged down the stairs. As she rounded the corner, she found Alice cross-legged in front of Nicole’s record player staring at a blank white cover with some words in the top corner. 

**She says, "Come lay beside me**

**I been waitin' since you left"**

**She's sweet to me**

**Must be the luckiest man alive**

Waverly felt a warmth cascade down her back as she took a few steps forward to deposit Nicole’s urn on the island. “Hi, Alice.” Alice jumped, pulling one leg up like she was going to run. Waverly put her arms out and shook her head, smiling as widely as she could. “Please don’t run-- I--” Waverly breathed in to calm her nerves. 

_ What would you say to Nicole? _

“What year?”

“Huh?” Alice’s tiny voice returned, her body still in ‘ready to run’ mode.

“What year is the album from?” Waverly stepped forward more slowly before sinking to the ground and patting it, urging Alice to relax. 

The girl studied her before sinking back down. “2020. This is Chris Stapleton.”

“It’s pretty.” Waverly said as she listened again.

**She takes me by the hand**

**I am the luckiest man alive**

**Did I tell you, baby**

**You are the joy of my life**

The last line hits Waverly square in her chest and she leaned closer to Alice to look at the record cover. “What’s it called?”

“‘Joy of my Life’. She told me about it.” Alice said slowly. “She said it reminded her of you.”

Waverly felt the emotion hit her like a freight train. Her sinuses began to hurt as she let the music envelope her, just like she knew Nicole would. “She would say that-- wouldn’t she?”

Alice nodded before leaning to place the record cover up on the display then began digging in her pockets. The girl pulled out the item and stared at it in a place where Waverly was unable to see what it was. After a few moments she turned and placed a pair of mirrored aviators in Waverly’s hands. “She gave these to me but I think you should have them.”

Waverly’s bottom lip quivered as her chest tightened. The sunglasses Nicole was wearing when she left the house. “I-- when did she give these to you?”

Alice tilted her head before answering, “The day after you got mad.”

Waverly put a hand to the ground for stability as she looked at the glasses in her hands, remembering instantly that Figment Nicole had been missing them the morning she left. Her head began to spin.

“Can I go play?” Alice asked quietly, pulling Waverly back.

“Uhh-- yeah.” Waverly shook her head and reached out to touch Alice’s shoulder. “But wait.” The girl looked scared for a few moments so Waverly tried to smile and ease her worry. She then unfolded the glasses and slipped the frames onto Alice’s face, making sure they were pushed high on the bridge of her nose. “I can’t take these because-- Nicole wanted you to have them.”

In an instant, Alice leapt forward and crashed into Waverly, hugging her tightly around the neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Waverly hugged her back, while still trying to sort through it all. Alice pulled away quickly and ran towards the door just as Wynonna opened it. Waverly slumped back down on the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees as her chest heaved.

“Whoa kiddo! Speed limits are there for a reason!” Wynonna yelled as Waverly listened to tiny feet run down the front steps and out into the yard. A few moments passed before she heard, “Hey cutie, why are you on the floor?”

“I know what I want to do with Nicole’s ashes,” Waverly said, happier than she had been in a long time. 

“Really?” Wynonna crossed towards her, dropping the girls bags to the ground. “What’s that?”

“I think she’d be a great record, don’t you think?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Corner:  
> 'Joy of my Life' by Chris Stapleton  
> 'my tears ricochet' by Taylor Swift
> 
> If y'all noticed, the chapter count has jumped to 6. This chapter is the final chapter of this track but I was moved to write a tiny epilogue that I will post in a few days. Watch out for that.
> 
> Thank y'all so much for all your support. I'd love to know what you think down below or over on Twitter, @reusabletears.


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy a final slice of this story that I couldn't resist adding.

“So how do they get her into the record?” 

Waverly looked up brightly from her laptop to meet Wynonna’s curious gaze. She let out a little joyful squeal in response, delighted that Wynonna had finally bit the bullet and asked her about the weeks of research she put into this process. 

Dolls, who was cleaning their dinner dishes off of the table, chuckled deeply at her outburst. “Sounds like we are gonna find out, babe.” 

“Is it voodoo magic?” Wynonna winked at Dolls before scooting closer to Waverly. “Or do they just sprinkle her over the top, ‘Salt Bae’ style.” She then mimicked the meme, facial expression and all, for emphasis. 

“No, they start out with a biscuit,” Waverly began.

“Popeyes or KFC?”

“Wynonna.” Dolls warned, motioning the classic ‘cut it out’ motion playfully in her direction. “Let Waverly finish.”

Wynonna leaned back and nodded so Waverly continued, “It’s a smaller blank that they lay between two plates that have our unique stampers attached. Stampers are what we ask to have placed on the vinyl. Basically, the stampers mold in the grooves that hold the sounds that the record plays.”

“Alright, cool. But how does Nicole enter the equation?”

“The blank they will use for Nicole will be a translucent white. Once the stampers of our choosing are clamped onto the press plates, they will place the biscuit on the press. Then they sprinkle around a tablespoon of her cremains on the biscuit before pressing it out. When it's done, we will be able to see her ashes in the vinyl. And what’s even cooler, her ashes will be in the grooves which will distort the sound a bit. It’ll be like she’s  _ inside _ the music.” Waverly smiled warmly, excited for the process.

“Only a tablespoon, huh?” Wynonna nodded thoughtfully as Dolls pulled a chair close to her and reached over to grab her hand lightly. Waverly tinged painfully at the sight but felt no jealousy. Just because her love was gone doesn’t mean their love was bad. “So you get to keep Haught-Box.”

“Pretty much, yeah. I am only having them make two records of her. One for me and one for--” Waverly hesitated. “Alice and Eliza. As long as that’s ok with you two.”

Dolls squeezed Wynonna’s hand as she looked back at him, obviously touched by the gesture. “Of course it is. What’s going on the records?”

Waverly instantly became more nervous and wrung her hands together before gathering herself enough to speak, “Alice and Eliza’s record will have ‘Joy of my Life’ by Chris Stapleton on one side and the audio I have from a video of Nicole reading a short bedtime story to the girls from a few years ago, on the other.”

Wynonna’s face began to bunch before she leaned in and grabbed Waverly, hugging her tightly. “That’s perfect,” She breathed. “Thank you.”

“I’m so glad you think so-- I’ve been worried about whether or not you’d agree,” Waverly whispered, her body still buzzing from her nerves.

“What about your record?” Dolls ask, his eyes watery.

“Uhh--” Waverly pulled back. “I chose a voicemail from her for one side and I want to pick out a song for the other but I am having some trouble choosing the right song.”

Wynonna, who moments before was melting into sentimental goo, suddenly shot forward to grab Waverly’s laptop and slide it in front of herself. “We can help with that!”

Waverly cocked an eyebrow, “You think you know what she’d want?”

“Of course! I was her  _ best friend _ . And she and Dolls were trading records back and forth, so he’s kind of qualified,” Wynonna then reached forward to tap Waverly’s arm. “And while you aren’t musically inclined, you gotta listen to whatever song it is for the rest of your life. If we put all of our powers together, I am sure we can pick something rad.”

“I mean, sure--” Waverly was unsure but couldn’t help but grin at Wynonna’s enthusiasm. Her sister typed something into Google as Waverly began her explanation, “I was thinking it needs to be something simple--”

“‘The Ghost of You’ by My Chemical Romance.” Wynonna blurted. 

“Jesus, Wy, this is a tribute not a High School emo phase.” Waverly scolded. 

“My Chemical Romance was  _ never _ a phase, and besides, it’s funny. Nicole would find it very amusing.”

“It’s kinda morbid,” Dolls disagreed with his wife before adding. “How about ‘Angel’ by Sarah Mclachlan? Very appropriate and not at all--”

“No!” Waverly and Wynonna said in unison.

Dolls put his hands up in surrender before standing and crossing to Nicole’s records. “Jesus, tough crowd.”

“No, that’s like  _ the  _ funeral song, babe. We can’t do that to Red.” Wynonna shook her head indignantly. “How about ‘Somebody That I Used to Know’ by that one hit wonder dude?”

Waverly groaned and placed her head in her hands. She knew she wanted to find the perfect song for her record but Waverly was unsure if accepting help was going to actually make it easier for her. Especially when Wynonna went straight into the non-sentimental stuff.

“No… it can’t be a break up song.” Wynonna jumped up suddenly and yelled, “Nelly’s ‘Hot in Herre’!”

“No.”

Dolls chuckled at Waverly’s discontent, pulling out one of Nicole’s records from the rack and browsing the rear cover. “‘Welcome Home’ by Coheed and Cambria?”

Waverly looked up at him confused, “Do you even know who that is?”

Dolls shook his head no just as Wynonna screamed, “‘Hotline Bling’!”

“Is it a popular band?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Waverly pushed away from the table to walk over and take the record from his hands, perusing the cover. “I think Nicole said they were like comic book rock?”

“What the hell--” Dolls pulled the record back from her. “Comic books in music?”

“You know what she’d hate?” Waverly giggled lightly, already moving on from Dolls’s odd find. “That country song where that woman sang about being dead already.”

“‘If I Die Young’.” Wynonna confirmed, back to typing on the laptop. “That’s too on the nose for Haught. We need to find something with more spice… oh! ‘Hot Blooded’ by Foreigner. Well I’m hot blooded, check it and see.”

Waverly turned and pointed, “Quit it with the Haught puns, Wynonna!”

“What?”

“‘Talkin’ Bout a Revolution’?” Dolls offered behind her. “She loved Tracey Chapman.”

“I don’t want a joke song!” Waverly cried, ignoring Dolls. “I want something that she loved-- simple, pure. Not a cover of ‘Hot-Crossed Buns’ by Korn!”

Wynonna rubbed her chin before nodding approvingly, “But that’d be a sick cover.”

“No!” Waverly lowered herself to the floor next to Dolls. “God, she is infuriating.”

Dolls’s mouth twitched but he didn’t comment, instead pulling another record out. “How about something Bruce Springsteen? ‘Glory Days’ or ‘I’m on Fire’. Or maybe some Deathcab for Cutie? Nicole sent me a relaxation mix with them on it. They are simple.”

None of these songs were jumping out at Waverly and a feeling of inadequacy began to creep across her body.  _ What if I can’t find the right song? _ Her arms slithered around her knees and bunched her legs against her chest. “I don’t know-- maybe I will just get an album for the girls. I don’t need one anyway.”

A few moments passed before a long sigh came from the kitchen followed by soft footsteps. Wynonna plopped down and slid close to Waverly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into herself. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

Waverly grunted in response as Dolls pulled a large chunk of records out, trying to give them some space. 

“I just--” Wynonna started then changed course, “How about that one song she liked to sing all the time?”

“That was a million different songs.” Waverly grumbled into her legs.

“Something about belonging with wildflowers?”

“Tom Petty. ‘Wildflowers’.” Dolls confirmed. “She wanted to learn guitar just to play that song.”

Waverly shook her head, her brain not recalling a memory of Nicole telling her about that. “No, it’s gotta be something I know. I want-- something simple. Powerful.”

“She has a lot of Johnny Cash--” Dolls added, sliding a large pile of records in front of Waverly. 

“The woman loved some Cash,” Wynonna agreed. “I bet there is something great in here, Babygirl. And you know she’d love whatever you would choose just because you chose it, right?”

Waverly gulped before sitting up straight and glancing at the pile of Johnny Cash records. Wynonna and Dolls were right. This didn’t need to be a difficult process because Nicole would love whatever she wanted to remember her with. And she figured Nicole had played every record at least ten times in her presence. 

“Yeah, ok.”

*****

**One Year Later**

Waverly clutched the cardboard container close to her chest as she sprinted up the stairs from her jeep, ripping her keys from her purse, hurriedly trying to unlock the doors. “Come on, come on.”

After a few tense moments, she was victorious and shouldered her way inside. With a quick movement, she kicked it closed behind her before dropping her keys to the floor and flinging her sandals towards the corner. Waverly spotted Nicole’s urn on the kitchen island and smiled, shuffling towards it.

“They came, Nicole!” She sing-songed at the box, placing the thick cardboard square onto the counter and pulling the tab on the prize. “The records are here!”

A few more corners were ripped before Waverly found herself gingerly pulling the two vinyls out of their protective packaging. The first record’s cover made her breath catch; a beautiful glossy image of Nicole grinning beside the girls in front of the dragon at the Calgary theme park. Waverly rubbed her fingers across the image before laying it to the side, uncovering her own record. The photo on this one was just Nicole. It was a candid shot of her reading a book in bed, her eyes slightly looking towards Waverly, a content grin on her face. Waverly’s mouth went dry as she took it all in.

“It’s beautiful.” Waverly glanced back at the urn and bit her lip. “Want to hear the song I chose?”

Waverly gave her customary few moments for a reply before crossing to the player, setting it up. Her hand shook in anticipation as she pulled the translucent white record from the cover and held it up to the light filtering in from the window. Nicole’s cremains were smattered around the grooves creating a beautiful universe of black stars on a completely white sky. Waverly gingerly deposited the cover on the display stand before flipping the record to the song side and placing it on the turntable. With a quick movement, Waverly put the arm in the correct spot and turned on the unit. 

“Ready?” Waverly asked before releasing the mechanism, the arm dropping down slowly.

A slow guitar started and Waverly sunk to the floor, laying flat out on her back before closing her eyes. She already noticed the difference between this version and the one of the actual album. Waverly already loved how the sound popped and crackled, the effect of Nicole’s ashes on the precious grooves. Her legacy left behind on a song. 

**The other night dear, as I lay sleeping**

**I dreamed I held you in my arms**

**But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken**

**So I hung my head and I cried**

**You are my sunshine, my only sunshine**

**You make me happy when skies are gray**

**You'll never know dear, how much I love you**

**Please don't take my sunshine away**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support and love with this fic.
> 
> Let me know below or over on Twitter, @reusabletears, what song(s) you'd put on your cremation record.

**Author's Note:**

> Song Corner:  
> 'Blue Bayou' by Linda Ronstadt  
> 'my tears ricochet' by Taylor Swift
> 
> *waves*
> 
> I would appreciate any and all comments/kudos if you made it this far. You can also hit me up on Twitter, @reusabletears.


End file.
